


Between the Pages

by AriMarris



Series: Stage of the Songbirds [1]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: (Skippable if you'd prefer not to read Sexual Content), Alternate Universe - Library, Angst, Anxiety, Borderline Personality Disorder, Dissociation, Dorks in Love, Drug Use, Falling In Love, Fluff, Librarian Connor, M/M, Mental Illness, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sexual Content, Trans Jared Kleinman, Trans Male Character, bpd connor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 13:31:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11105562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriMarris/pseuds/AriMarris
Summary: Evan just wanted a book.





	Between the Pages

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!! So, to anyone that follows me on tumblr (@arimarris) you've probably heard about this story - it's been a long time coming. I finally decided to split it into chapters since it turned out to be a lot bigger than I originally planned! I hope you guys enjoy it!
> 
> I owe a really huge thank you to all the friends that have put up with me through this fic... and will have to continue to put up with me because there are two more parts. 
> 
> Warnings for this chapter are pretty tame. There's a mild anxiety attack, marajuana usage, dissociation, and sexual content towards the end. There will be two line breaks before and after the smut if you'd rather skip it. Also to those who do read it. Be warned, I suck at smut.

Evan loved the library.

It was never really the busiest of places. Not like the college campus or the mall or - god forbid - the grocery store, where it was easy to bump into someone around every corner, where you could drop something and make a mess. Which of course meant you’d then have to go and talk to someone to tell them you had made the mistake and they would stare at you and judge you and go home and tell everyone about the horrible customer they had to deal with at work and it was mid-November which meant the swarms of people Christmas shopping and -

The library was just better. At its busiest, it was simply students spread across the room, quietly minding their own business as they studied for exams. With their noses buried in their books and notes and computers, it was nothing but peaceful silence. And if he felt the pressure of prying eyes, there were shelves upon shelves of books to hide amongst.

Even better was once night fell and the overworked students began to trickle out of the library. It was open until two in the morning, just to catch those night owls who didn’t escape their night classes until nine or ten, but even then people seldom stayed past eleven. Except for Evan. The library was finally empty enough that he didn’t have to worry about the possible eyes on him, the whispers of the little groups, of knocking over a stack of books and having everyone turn to stare at him-

It was just him, the thousands of books, and the single librarian who lucked out with the graveyard shift.

Evan shuffles towards his favourite section, one he knows nearly by heart. His eyes scan the shelves, finding books he had already read and ones he had yet to explore, a soft smile on his lips. Which nearly immediately turned into a frown when he was unable to find the book he was searching for. He had started reading it last time he was here, but had stupidly forgotten his library card and had been unable to bring it home.

With a sigh, he trudged to the computer to search for the book. He desperately hoped the book was at least in the library - he had already written half of his essay with citations from the book, and he’d hate to have to start over. It was due tomorrow and if he had to start over he’d have to find an entirely new book to write about and he was really interested in the one he had been writing on and-

Deep breaths, he reminds himself, and anxiously taps in the book’s title into the search bar. The page loads, and loads, and loads - and what if he broke the computer, oh god, he was going to have to go explain that he broke the computer to the scary, mean librarian who always looked as though she had just swallowed a lemon when she looked at him-

And then it loaded. Evan heaved a sigh of relief upon seeing the words next to the image of the cover, in small green letters, ‘ _One (1) copy available at this location.”_

And then he realized that finding that copy would require talking to the librarian anyway, since it clearly wasn’t shelved, and she would have to help him find it in the recently returned books, all the while grumbling under her breath like that one time he had accidentally returned a book he still needed.

For many moments, Evan rocks in his place, staring blankly at the screen. His hand fidgets with the hem of his shirt. He considers racing back to the section, pulling down a random book, and restarting his essay with whatever he grabbed. But he’s already five pages in - it would be a shame to restart now, just because he couldn’t muster up the courage to ask a scary middle aged woman for help.

He takes a deep breath... and doesn’t move. And another deep breath, and turns.

He approaches the front desk with caution, his eyes on the floor as though he could trip over air at any moment. He continues to play with the hem of his shit, and oh - there’s a few holes along the bottom, with fraying threads, which means he’d have to throw this out soon, which was really quite a pity as this was one of his favourite shirts. He is so lost in his mind that he very nearly walks into the front desk, only being dragged back to reality when he hears someone ask:

“Can I help you?”

The voice is the sarcastic, biting tone laced with annoyance that Evan has come to expect but it’s not a lady’s voice. His head snaps up fast enough to give him whiplash and sure enough, the old hag is nowhere to be seen. Instead, there is a man sprawled back in the chair, looking utterly at ease. His attention is solely dedicated to picking at his chipping black nail polish, disinterest clear on his face.

“Y-you’re n-not Ms. Hannigan,” he blurts, unable to think of anything else to say. He freezes. The man - Connor, he sees, on the shiny name tag that confirmed he was indeed library staff - drops his hands into his lap, and turns his gaze to the anxious student. He stares at him through dark, wide rim glasses. For a moment, Evan is taken aback by the man’s handsome face, framed by pieces of hair that had escaped his messy bun. His features are sharp, intimidating even, and his lips-

“Well, that's news to me,” he says, and the sarcastic bite is as prominent as the dark bags under his ocean blue eyes - which would be quite stunning if they weren’t glaring at him like _that_. Evan swallows hard, opens his mouth, and closes it. “Well?”

“I- um,” Evan stumbled over his words, unable to rip his gaze away from the young librarian’s. “I-I’m looking for a book, for- for school, an essay? The computer said it was here, it’s, uh, it’s called, The Secret Life of Trees? By Colin Tunge.” He says it so fast he’s quite positive it comes sounding more like gibberish, or another language. He tries to speak again, his voice jumping three octaves, “you know? It’s okay, never mind, never mind!”

He turns and bolts and he’s extremely glad he doesn’t trip over himself in his haste to flee. He stops once in the nature section to grab another book on trees that looked promising. Yeah, he could just start over his essay anyway. He’d just pull an all nighter and have it finished for tomorrow, nothing could go wrong there - right? His shoulders slump and he curses himself as he makes his way to his favourite part of the library.

It’s a quiet, secluded section of the library. Beneath the staircase, tucked behind rows of knitting magazines and craft books, the comfy, well worn cushioned seats were always empty anytime past four in the afternoon, with the rare exception. Regardless, he was safe there, away from people and noise and distractions.

With a sigh, he pulls out his laptop and props it open on the small coffee table. The screen flickers and opens to his nearly finished essay, and he considers bullshitting the rest of it. He should have enough information to drag out- but not for another three pages. Unless he wants to swallow his fear and face the new, undeniably gorgeous librarian who he had made a complete fool of himself in front of, there was no other way to finish this essay by tomorrow.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, because there was no other way to summarize his current situation, and he had under three hours until the library closed. With one final glance at his essay, he exited the tab. When it offered to save his document, Evan hesitated and then pressed ‘save’. _Just in case_.

Just in case what? The book magically popped up? With a frustrated sigh he set about reading the new material, skimming more than anything and leaving post-it notes on every page that seemed relevant. If anything overlapped from his other book even slightly, he could potentially transfer it over, saving him a lot of time.

He was barely a chapter in when he was dragged out of his thoughts when something was dropped on the table in front of him. He looks up, startled, only to find a familiar green cover staring up at him. “What-?”

“Had to be fucking impossible to find, didn’t you?”

And there is the _(holy shit, so goddamn beautiful)_ librarian, hovering over him. Evan hadn’t noticed back when Connor had been sprawled out in the chair behind the desk, how tall and thin this guy was - and  _holy shit did this guy look good in skinny jeans._ He tries to speak, but all coherence gets lost somewhere in his throat and all that comes out is a jumbled mess. “I- uh- you- s-sorry?”

Connor rolls his eyes, “That’s the book you were looking for right?”

“I- yeah, a-actually, it is,” Evan manages, well aware that his heart is going much too fast for this situation. God, was the man going to laugh at him for running away earlier? Or maybe for his choice in literature- it really wouldn't be the first time. How did Connor even hear the name of the book through his mortifyingly incomprehensible tirade “How did you-?”

“You left your search open, on the computer.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

And then he was off, disappearing behind the shelves. Evan watched him go and then continued to stare at the empty space. That was. Not awful.

* * *

Evan comes back the next night. Of course, he does. And it’s certainly not because of the new, mysterious yet terrifying, beautiful librarian that may or may not have replaced Ms. Hanigan. No, it was because he had reading to do, and the library was the perfect place for said reading.

Or so he told himself, but he was pretty sure he could have done his reading at home.

Or maybe it  _was_ just something about the relaxing ambiance of the library after dark, it was the perfect place to read. And home was dark and lonely with his mother working nights. So, the library was just a better place to read.  

He had a solid excuse and all he had to do was prove it to himself. He didn’t come here to check up on the new librarian, the one with the perfect lips and stormy eyes and messy hair - not at all. He found himself rather proud when he was able to prove this by only glancing at the front desk once as he shuffled in. Connor was there, sprawled out the same as yesterday, this time carefully applying a fresh coat of black nail polish. He glanced up at the sound of footprints, saw Evan, and immediately ducked his head back to his task at hand.

Cool, good. Fine.

Evan picked up the pace, actively trying to get past Connor as fast as he can, carefully avoiding looking Connor’s direction - and trips. And falls. Flat on his face.

He scrambles to get up immediately. He can feel the distinct pain of a scraped knee, can feel tears spring to his eyes, can feel his face flush. He’s on his knees, and tries to push himself up. He lets out a grunt of pain. He must have hurt his wrist trying to catch his fall -

“Fuck, you alright?” Connor was suddenly at his side. Evan let out a small noise of protest and tried to wave Connor away, feeling even more mortified. Connor didn’t move, instead hooking and arm through Evan’s and helping him to his feet.

“I’m fine,” Evan said, immediately taking a step away from Connor. Because holy shit, he did not need to think about the way Connor’s hand felt on his arm. Evan moved to readjust his clothes, tugging them down and ignoring the jolt of pain in his wrist. “I mean, t-thanks. I-I mean, sorry, I’m sorry.”

Connor raises an eyebrow, a goddamn perfect eyebrow at him, eyes twinkling with something that made Evan’s stomach flop. “That was a fucking pathetic way of getting my attention, Hansen,” he said with a little smirk. A teasing smirk. God - what was he going to say now? Embarrass him more? Mock him? “You could have just said Hi.”

Wait, what? No mocking, no jokes?

“H-How do you know my-?”

“You took out that tree book yesterday, it was on your card. Evan Hansen, right?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” He remembers his name from seeing it only once?

“Yeah.”

“Well, I h-have to go study,” Evan says suddenly, his words a frantic blur as the embarrassment returns full force. “T-thanks, sorry, uh, bye.”

Evan turns and quickly walks towards the stairs. However, he falls just short and instead takes a sharp left at the end of the row, leading him straight to the nature section. He grabbed a random book off the shelf and flipped through it absentmindedly. Tropical trees, it was about. He’s read it before - it should be easy, a refresher on what he already knew.  He tried to focus, he really did.

Or maybe he wasn’t really trying because he couldn’t stop thinking about the way his name sounded on Connor’s lips.

And he really didn’t want to stop thinking about it either.

* * *

“You literally fell for the guy.”

Evan’s glad that at least one of the them is finding last night’s events hilarious. Evan personally finds them utterly mortifying. Not only had he made a complete fool of himself in front of Connor but he had also sprained his wrist doing so. The worst part of all of it is that he can’t even deny his crush on the librarian.

It wasn’t as though he had been trying to get Connor’s attention, of course - it had just ended up happening. And he really wish it hadn’t.

“I can, I can never go back to the library again,” Evan groaned, drawing a laugh from Jared. The barista is luckily trapped behind the counter at Starbucks but the lack of customers also means his filter isn’t exactly turned off. “I mean, I sprained my wrist falling on my face in front of him. It’s so embarrassing.”

“You could always tell him you sprained your wrist jerking off while thinking about him,” Jared suggests, “that could get you a date.” He pauses for a moment, a smirk growing on his face, “or a restraining order.”

Evan’s face goes up in flames, “Jared, no!”

Jared shrugs. “Well, I don’t know what you want me to tell you. That he probably thinks random strangers falling on their faces is super hot? Because the chances of that are definitely against you. But you never know. Everyone has their own weird kink - I mean, look at you with your tree thing.”

Evan groans and buries his face in his hands. “Why do I even tell you things anymore?”

“Because we’re family friends and you value my meaningful contributions,” Jared tells him. He finally finishes Evan’s frappuccino, loads a generous amount of whipped cream atop - his way of showing he cares, Evan supposes, the same way he gives Evan 50% off his order - and drizzles caramel over top just as the door clicks open and a few people begin to trickle in. He slides it across the counter with a little smirk. “Now, I have a vanilla bean frap with caramel for... Acorn? Is there an Acorn here?”

“You fall out of a tree one time...” Evan takes his drink. It’s hard to believe that Jared has become easier to deal with since high school when he says shit like that. At least he means it with fondness and not the cruel sarcasm he used in their school days. “You’re terrible.”

Jared smirks, wiping his hands on his apron and adjusted his name tag, a little plaque with ‘ _Jared, he/him’_ written on it. “I know, now get out of here, I have a hoard of hipsters and bitchy middle-aged women - who are almost definitely going to misgender me -  to deal with.”

Evan rolls his eyes at his (family) friend’s antics but allows him to go back to his job. He has nowhere to be and nothing to do so he chooses to browse the bookstore that the cafe was tucked inside of. He’ll probably end up back at the Starbucks as soon as the small rush disappeared, because he has no life and there’s absolutely no way he can ever show his face in the library again. The only other option besides enduring Jared’s teasing would be going home to an empty house and well, at least here he had someone to talk to.

Jared had gotten better after high school. A lot better, really. Maybe it was the insecurities chipping away after the pressures of high school were lifted, or the sudden boost in his social life with college. Or maybe it was because the “I hang out with you for free car insurance” excuse stopped working when Jared started paying his own. Sometime later, the “family” part of the friendship started to sound like the joke Jared always insisted he was.

Evan appreciated the change. He had always gone to Jared for advice and help in high school, having no one else. He had always felt guilty about it, just with how Jared treated him like a bother.

He still felt like a bother sometimes. But it was mostly his own anxieties now because now Jared tries to show he cares. It’s little things, like getting his Starbucks discounted when Jared’s boss isn’t looking or inviting him to  _actually_ hang out. It was nice.

Evan wanders around the bookstore until the crowds of people at Starbucks began to disperse. He makes his way back and leans against the counter, setting his drink down. While he waits for Jared to finish up the last of the orders Evan marvels at Jared’s ability to refrain from being a dick. When he’s being paid for it, at least.

When Jared finishes with the last customer, his eyes travel over the dining area before freezing in one place. Evan follows his gaze and sees a man about their age sitting alone at one of the tables. He’s cute, with a mess of freckles over dark skin and thick, curly hair. He’s entirely engrossed in his book, absentmindedly sipping his drink as he reads. Evan grins.

“Do my eyes deceive me or is Jared Kleinman-”

“I am not pining over _Philip_ ,” Jared’s snappy response cuts him off all too quickly. There's a hint of pink in his cheeks. “I'm not. Look, I’m _me_ . I don't _pine_. I’m not a tree.” Jared takes a moment to snicker at his own joke. “Or - I dunno, what are you, like tree kin or something? Should I start calling you Pinecone instead?” Evan let’s out a huff. “Anyway, I could say something if I actually wanted to.”

“Mhmm.” Jared turns his eyes away to glare at Evan.

“Oh, like you can talk. Go- just go to the fucking library and stare at your dream boy. Your belated teenage angst is killing the mood around here.”

* * *

“So, trees.”

“Y-yeah.”

Connor seemed a little grumpy at having to put down his book - a battered copy of The Outsiders, Evan recognized - to pull Evan’s stack of books towards him. Connor stares at Evan expectantly for a minute and then demands, “Library card?”

“O-oh, right,” Evan stumbles, pulling out his card and presenting it to the librarian who snatched it away. The machine beeped and he was handed back his card. He fumbles to put it away. For the most part, Evan had attempted to avoid the library as much as he could. It had worked until he needed a book, and dealing with one librarian who witnessed an embarrassing moment sounded far better than hoards of people and children and overly friendly library staff. He had only made it two weeks, and his wrist wasn’t even healed yet. At least Connor hasn’t mentioned the bandage around his sprained wrist - Evan takes it as a good sign.

The machine is taking an awfully long time to process each book scanned, so they are left in awkward silence as they scan them.

“So.... trees,” Connor repeated and Evan nodded. “Any reason why?”“O-oh, umm,” Evan began, “I-I’ve kinda always loved trees? And they’re justreallycoolandwhenIwasinhighschoolIspentmysummersasajunionparkrangerbutIalwayswantedto-”

“O-oh, umm,” Evan began, “I-I’ve kinda always loved trees? And they’re justreallycoolandwhenIwasinhighschoolIspentmysummersasajunionparkrangerbutIalwayswantedto-”

“Hansen,” and there it was again, his name, on Connor’s lips.

“Evan,” Evan corrects without thinking.

“Evan,” Connor repeats and there’s a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Breathe.”

Evan takes a deep breath, gulping back air and then exhales. Connor finally processes the final book.

“You were saying?”

“I-I, just really like trees. I’m majoring in environmental science now but ever since I was a kid, they just seemed really cool,” he can hear himself pick up the pace again and calms his breathing, “In high school, I spent my summers a-as a junior ranger. I was a tree expert, and so proud- wait, that’s really lame isn’t it?”

“Super lame,” Connor agrees with a nod, but there's no venom in his words. Evan giggles nervously as the librarian stacks Evan’s books and pushes them across the counter with a snicker. “Don’t be a stranger, Treevan.”

* * *

And he wasn’t.

Of course, he came back again. And again... and again, and it really became more a part of his routine. And each time he visited, he moved closer and closer to the front desk. Further out of his comfort zone.

And well, Connor started to move  _away_ from the front desk. Evan often looked up from his book to see Connor a few feet away from him, arms full of books, tucking them away on their shelves. He’d glance over and meet Evan’s eyes, a casual smirk playing on those lips. Once he swore he heard laughter as he ducked his head and buried his nose back in his book. But it wasn’t bad, or cruel, or mocking. It was... nice.

This was nice.

Evan definitely didn’t sneak another glance as soon as he was sure the librarian wasn’t looking, just as Connor reached for the top shelf. And his stomach definitely didn’t flop when he saw Connor’s sweater ride up, revealing how Connor really was little more than a lanky mess of skin and bone. But god, Evan loved it, loved the way his skinny jeans clung to his hips, the happy trail that disappeared beneath those jeans-

Evan stopped his thoughts that second, literally burying his face in his book. The pages were cool against his rapidly heating face.

Fuck.

* * *

“You speak German?”

Connor always asks him about the books he takes out from the library, so the question shouldn't have startled him as much as it did. He jumps a little, his mind scattering for a reply.

“Uh, yeah, no, I mean-” he stumbles. Connor gives him a look and he takes a deep breath. “I took it in high school. I want, I want to take it in college next semester but... I, I really need to, need to brush up on it... I'm not fluent.”

“Cool,” Connor says with a little nod. He even seems vaguely impressed. “I've heard plenty of French and Spanish but never German. How well do you speak it?”

“I, uh, my- my dad spoke it, before he left, of course, so- I kinda grew up with, with bits and pieces? I can... I can speak a little bit. Sometimes he calls me to talk and... and he- we talk in German. He always wants me to, to come visit but I haven’t seen him in years so- so my German is a little... out of practice. That’s- that's probably really boring, huh? I should go.”

He reaches to take his books off the counter but Connor pulls them back slightly. “Say something for me? I want to hear it.”

Evan swallows hard, taking his brain for something to say. “Um...” Connor’s watching him, patiently, a little smile on his lips as he absentmindedly pushes a bit of hair that escaped his bun back. He seems amused by it all, his eyes practically twinkling. His really, really pretty eyes- “Du bist süß. Ich wünschte, ich könnte dich küssen!”

He blurts it and immediately feels his face heat up. Really, of everything he could have said, he said that? _You’re cute,_ really? _I wish I could kiss you_? Evan wants to die in that moment.

He’s lucky Connor doesn't understand German. Now  _that_ would be mortifying.

“What does that mean?”

Evan panics. “Umm, what it means? You’re- it means, um... ‘You’re a... librarian.’ And- um, ‘I really like books and trees’. Yeah, that.”

That’s totally believable. Completely.

“Oh, okay,” Connor says and finally pushes Evan’s books back towards him. Evan grabs them and pulls them to his chest, laughing nervously. He actually looks convinced and maybe even a tad disappointed. “My ex spoke Spanish fluently so I know it best. Even though at least ninety percent was cursing me out.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Connor says with a little smirk. “Just normal insults, lots of cussing. There were a few that were utterly stupid though - ‘El burro sabe más que tú, Connor’, ‘tu eres más feo que el culo de un mono, Connor’.”

Evan tilts his head, “what does that mean?”

“The donkey knows more than you,” Connor translates, “and his personal favourite, you’re uglier than a monkey’s ass.”

Evan doesn't know why he found that so hilarious. Maybe because it actually sounded really, really good in Spanish (and better on Connor’s lips) but the translations was... not what he was expecting. But he couldn't help the snort that quickly turned into full blown laughter. He immediately throws a hand over his mouth to muffle it.

“I- I'm sorry, I.. I don't know why I.. uh, why I find it so funny,” Evan chokes out as he struggles to stifle the laughter. His shoulders are still shaking when the audible laughter fades. He looks up to meet Connor’s amused gaze, his eyebrows raised. Evan immediately backtracks, “I mean, not that it was directed at you, obviously, I wasn't saying that. Those things aren't true at all and actually not that funny. I mean, they’re kinda... kinda mean I guess. But they’re not true, you’re definitely not those. You’re like, like,” Evan struggles with the word - _hot, gorgeous, sexy, beautiful, adorable?_ \- and then drops it, “I'm sorry, it wasn't funny, I'm sorry.”

Connor bursts into laughter. It's- it's almost weird because it's a noise he never expected to come out of Connor. Not that he thought Connor didn't laugh - he just thought anything that came out of Connor would sound sarcastic regardless of intent but... it wasn't. It was low, rich, genuine. Evan’s chest suddenly feels as though it's filled with hundreds of butterflies fluttering around. There's fire spreading across his face and-

Connor stops laughing all too soon.

“You can... relax a little,” Connor says, quickly avoiding Evan’s eyes. There's the faintest pink creeping over his face. “I mean, you don't need to apologize all the time.” Connor scratched the back of his head in a way that seems almost nervous. “You're fine.”

* * *

“They must hate you at Starbucks,” Evan says one day as he drops a stack of books onto the counter. It’s just after midnight and Evan is leaving a little early tonight. As much as he’d love to stick around and chat with Connor, he has an exam in the morning that he had spent most of the evening studying for and he wasn’t blowing it by not getting enough sleep.

He sees Connor’s face. He looks a little shocked or maybe he’s offended? “I mean- I didn’t mean it like- Your order just looks really complicated and I don’t mean it in a mean way or anything.”

“Evan, calm down.” Connor smirks and takes a sip of his drink, an impressive amount of instructions written in sharpie across for the special order. “I’m sure they do hate me at this point. They weep when they see me come through the doors. ‘ _Oh no, the dreaded Connor Murphy has returned’_. But that’s half the fun,”

Evan laughs at that, something a little more than his usual nervous giggle, and Connor seems pleased with himself. “And here you’d figure they’d know how to spell your name by now if you’re such a nightmare.”

“They do it on purpose,” Connor says with distaste. “Revenge, I guess.”

Evan gets it. Jared tells him all the time about how they purposely write names down wrong for difficult orders. Friendly revenge, especially for the hipsters who love to post their complex orders on social media with their newly-done nails. He watches as Connor sets the drink down, chipped black nail polish flashing and knows he’s not that type. Evan turns to look at the drink as Connor begins to scan his stack of books.

Evan’s still staring at the drink when Connor finishes checking the books into the system and prints off the receipt that lists the due dates. His lip twitches up in amusement when he catches how they spelt his name, a mess among the incomprehensible scribbles.

“What’s in that, anyway?”

“Grande mocha, quad shot, nonfat, one-pump, extra whip, with caramel drizzle.” Connor says, his eyes not straying from his task as he writes something down. There’s that cocky grin and it’s definitely an improvement from the neutral, dead-inside look he wore when Evan first started visiting the library.

“Jesus, man, do you ever sleep?” Evan blurts before he can stop himself, his eyes wide. He does not envy that barista, not in the slightest. Unless, by any chance, that barista happened to be Jared. If it was Jared, well, that was just funny.

Connor shrugs and takes another sip of his mocha. Evan feels like that explains the dark bags beneath Connor’s eyes quite well. It was hardly fair he managed to look so good with them regardless.

Connor tucks the receipt into cover of the top book and stacks them neatly.

“Don’t you think your love for books and trees is a bit of a contradiction,” Connor asks with humour in his voice, “those books are murdered trees, after all.”

“Har-har,” Evan rolls his eyes and collects the books into his arms. “Whatever, see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see you.” Evan swears he sees a hint of a genuinely happy smile on Connor’s lips, a light in his eyes. He probably imagined it.

The next morning, after his exam, Evan lays sprawled over his couch reading about some type of trees that grow specifically in eastern asia. When his mother comes in with lunch for the two of them, Evan pulls out the receipt to use as a bookmark and immediately loses his page when he sees what’s scrawled across the top of the slip of paper.

 _Text me sometime_ , written in blue ink, followed by a ten digit number. Beneath it, written in large, blocky letters, it was signed _Konnair_ , with a tiny frowny face next to the misspelled name.

He did  _not_ whoop in excitement.

Just like he did _not_ anxiously wait two days to text him.

Connor texts back within ten minutes, so Evan assumes he didn’t mind.

* * *

They talked more over text than in person. Even when Evan spent time at the library, it was usually in some respectful, reverent silence. The library was a quiet, calm place. And they weren’t made to break that.

Except there are moments they do. There are moments that Connor grows bored with his work chores, and there are moments that Evan cannot focus on the words on the pages. They end up sitting together in Evan’s special, secluded spot. There’s rarely anyone else around and the people who are there mind their own business.

Tonight’s one of those nights. They’re sitting together in the worn down plush love seat, sipping Starbucks that Evan had picked up on the way. He had refused to be the difficult customer, however, which left Connor with a rather disappointing caramel macchiato.

“Favourite movie?” Evan asked.

“10 Things I Hate About You.”

“I’ve never seen it.” But he knew it was a romance and Evan can’t help but be slightly shocked at the unexpected answer.

“You’re missing out. Heath Ledger is fucking sexy,” Connor informs him and Evan rises an eyebrow at him. “I’m not joking. I’ll get you hooked one day. Favourite childhood memory?”

Evan thinks for a few moment, and then slowly begins, “it was after my dad left. My mom took me to, uh, to this nature park? And we learnt about how only years before, a huge forest fire ran through the entire place. Burned the entire forest to the ground. There was nothing but ash. But then, it just, came back? It rose again from the ashes. Everything can grow back, with time. And support. It would have never grown back without the rain and the sun, and the birds and bugs and- and even when things get bad it’ll eventually work out.”

He pauses. He looks to Connor as if seeking permission to go on. Connor says nothing, simply stares at him so he continues, “It was in this valley, so the wind would come off the hills. It blew everything around and when it regrew, it was something... entirely new. And the trees- they would grow, but they’d be weak at first. They could be torn out of the ground but th-that’s why they’re flexible, they go with the flow until they’re... strong enough... to reach for the sun. A-and, they always grow towards the sun. It... it made me feel like I could too. Be like the trees- that is.”

He’s far too aware of Connor watching him now. His eyebrows are furrowed together as he observes Evan. Evan bites his lip nervously. “S-sorry, I just- that was really stupid wasn’t it?”

“No, it wasn’t. It was...” Connor finally says, drifting off as he seems to change his mind about saying what he was thinking. He’s still watching Evan. “It’s your turn to ask a question.”

“Oh, right...” Evan gnaws his lip, trying to think of a question that could lighten the mood that wasn’t something lame like Connor’s favourite colour. “What’s the best part of working night shift?”

Connor doesn't even really take a moment to think. “You,” a pause, “being here. Being here with you.”

There’s a brief moment where they just stare at each other. Connor’s face has slipped, as though he’s shocked at his own answer and then Evan - impulsively, stupidly, wonderfully - fills the space between them and kisses him hard.

It’s not perfect, far from. Connor is frozen. Evan panics. He pulls away almost immediately and he feels the panic clawing at his chest, feel the sting of rejection like a slap in the face because that’s his  _entire life_ , and why would it change now?

He raises to his feet, apologies falling off his lips, but Connor catches his wrist and pulls him back down. His eyes are squeezed shut because he doesn’t know what to think, but then he doesn’t _need_ to think because Connor’s lips are on his and he’s kissing him back - deeply, incredibly, wonderfully.

Connor’s lips taste like coffee and cigarettes. It’s weird, a little different, but it’s Connor which somehow makes it _perfect._

* * *

“Do you want to, I dunno, go out, sometime?”

Evan looks up from his assigned reading. The two of them are curled up in Evan’s hiding spot, their legs tangled together. It’s just over three hours into Connor’s shift and he had given up doing any actual work. Which honestly suited Evan just fine. It was incredibly nice to just sit and be so at ease with someone.

“L-like... a date?”

Evan is taken a little off guard by the question. After that first kiss, they had never really stopped to talk about what happened. Evan had desperately wanted to but... he was rather scared of the answer. With every text, every touch, every kiss, Evan felt himself falling a little more for the librarian and he was  _terrified_ that it wasn’t the same for Connor. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew he wasn’t exactly desirable by any means. What if Connor just liked the casual company? Just liked him because he was there.

Evan really liked the company, he loved feeling like there was someone there and he was scared of saying something, bringing feelings into the mix, and ruining it. And he knew it was illogical, that there was no reason Connor would take time texting him, telling him about his day and his favourite books and the shitty customers he had to deal with if he didn’t at least  _sort of_ like him.

“Yeah, a date.” Connor confirms.

“A date-date.” Just to make sure.

“If you don’t want to, it’s fine,” Connor snaps defensively. He’s turned his head to stare at the rows of books, clenching his jaw tightly. Evan swears he sees the faintest blush spread across Connor’s cheeks and realizes he might not be the only one who is insecure here, who longs to know what they are but is too afraid to ask. Who maybe wants them to be... something more. Evan doesn’t want to get his hopes up but...

“What did - what did you have in mind?” Evan asks, his heart thudding in his chest. It feels as though it could burst any moment. He sits up slowly, placing his book aside to give Connor his undivided attention.

Connor looks awkward under the sudden attention. “I was thinking, maybe dinner?”

He looks as if he’s about to take it back, tell Evan to forget about it, that it’s stupid - so Evan kisses him before he has the chance. When he pulls back, Connor is staring at him expectantly, almost unfazed by the kiss as he waits for the answer. Evan laughs.

“Dinner sounds fantastic.”

* * *

They don’t go to dinner. They made plans for it but Connor cancelled them the night before, sending him an address and telling him to meet him there at noon. A surprise, Connor insisted. It made Evan a little anxious.

Okay, a lot anxious but that wasn’t stopping Evan from showing up. He asks his mom to drop him off, claiming he was meeting a classmate to study together. Heidi was more than happy to hear that and dropped him off on her way to work. It left him just over fifteen minutes until Connor arrived but it beat walking. The night had brought in a fresh blanket of snow and it hadn’t really let up. It was still snowing, lightly. His other alternative had been public transit but taking the bus meant people, lots of people, strangers.

There’s people here too, at the little cafe the address lead to, but it’s... quiet, quaint, surprisingly nice. The cafe doesn’t look very busy from what Evan can see through the glass, maybe about half a dozen couples sitting together.

He thinks about going in when the icy wind starts to bite at his cheeks and lips, but then he thinks about sitting in there all alone, having to talk to the waitress as she asks him over and over again what he’d like. And then if Connor didn’t show up or cancelled he’d be left there all alone to sit awkwardly and-

No, he’d just wait outside. Alone.

“How are you not frozen?” Evan gasps as a greeting upon seeing Connor. He’s wearing only a ratty hoodie that looks years old and a knitted beanie with his hair pulled up into it. There are little wisps escaping the hat though, framing his face which is flushed from the cold. A messenger bag that looks older than his jacket is thrown over his shoulder. When he gets closer, Evan can see the snowflakes in his hair and caught in his long eyelashes. “It’s like eight degrees out here!”

Connor shrugs, giving Evan one of those half smiles that make him melt. Even in the cold, it does it’s job and makes Evan feel a little warmer. “It’s not too bad, I’ve had worse.”

“Maybe we should get out of the cold?” Evan extends his hand to Connor and immediately second guesses. As soon as he goes to withdraw it, Connor’s gloved fingers are twisting between his and holding fast. He pulls Evan towards him, swooping down for a sweet, short kiss. Connor’s lips are colder than his, frozen and chapped and perfect. As Connor pulls away, his gaze lingers on Evan’s face.

“C’mon,” Connor mumbles, pulling Evan into the quaint cafe. The warmth of the building rushes over them and Evan can't help but giggle when Connor’s glasses fog up. Connor doesn't seem so pleased, carelessly pulling them off with a disgruntled scowl.

They find a seat away from the front where most of the couples were sitting. It's nice and tucked away and for the most part, out of sight from prying eyes. Evan appreciates it, shrugging off his winter wear and swinging it over the back of the seat before relaxing into the cushioned chair away from prying eyes. He pries off his gloves and sets them aside. “This is, uh, a really nice place.”

“It's always quiet,” Connor says, settling across from him. With his now free hands, he wipes the fog from his glasses and slips them back on. “I used to come here a lot when-” he pauses, mulling over his words, his eyes darkening, “after I first moved out of my parents’ place.”

It’s the first time Connor has ever mentioned his family. He doesn’t sound angry or upset but he looks like he doesn’t really want to talk about it either and despite his natural born curiosity, Evan knows better than to pry.

Even if he wanted to, the waitress appeared in that moment. Evan very nearly falls out of his seat when she drops the menus on the table. “Hello, and welcome to-” the waitress freezes, her eyes lighting up. “Connor! Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you’re here! It’s been forever!”

“Hey, Brooke,” Connor returns with a weak but genuine smile. Evan finds himself following suit, if only because of the pure positivity that was rolling off of this stranger. The smile quickly turns into a nervous one when her gaze lands on him.

“You brought a date! I haven’t seen you with a guy since-!”

“Yeah, I know,” he cuts her off. “Are you going to let us order or?”

“Jenna’s going to eat this up!”

“Don’t you dare-”

“Chloe, Chloe! Call Jenna! Connor brought a boy!”

“Brooke! Chloe, don’t do it-”

A brunette waitress that was previously behind the counter practically skips over to them. “Connor!” she practically sings, tugging at his cheek with a frown on her face, “You’ve been eating right? You look thinner.”

“Well, I was trying to order-”

They cut off into something that resembles playful bickering, almost like siblings. It’s the most relaxed Evan’s ever seen Connor, even with his scowl firmly in place. And it’s really nice to watch too, until the dirty blonde turns her attention to him.

“And what’s your name? How’d you meet Connor?”

“I’m, um, I’m Evan?” Evan manages. “We met at the library-”

She looks like she’s about to start harassing him with a barrage of questions. Connor comes to his rescue.

“I wouldn’t have come here if I knew you guys were going to harass me on my _date_ ,” he snaps. Brooke thankfully backs off at that with a girly giggle and a small smile on her face. He’s not so fortunate with Chloe.

“He’s cute,” she says, peering at him through narrowed eyes, arms crossed against his chest. “A little bit geeky but that’s probably your type. Probably why you got a job at the library, you creep.”

“Hardy har,” Connor says in the same jokingly mocking tone. “Don’t you guys have other customers to deal with?”

“We’re getting the hint,” Chloe mutters, sarcastically rolling her eyes. She ruffles his hair affectionately - something Evan never imagined anyone on this earth could get away with - and ignores the deadly glare he gives her in return. “So, Evan, what would you like to eat?”

In his nervousness, Evan orders the first cheapish thing he sees on the menu, some kind of caprese panini that looks kosher. Brooke nods and drags Chloe away without waiting for Connor’s order. He probably has a regular - he seems to come by enough, considering how well they know him.

“Close friends?”

Connor’s dropped his head into his folded arms on the table. He lets out a groan and mumbles, “You could say that.”

It’s... almost adorable. Evan could almost hear a pout in his muffled words. He seems... embarrassed, as though Evan had just met his parents.

“They seem really, um, sweet?” Evan becomes distracted with his hands, fiddling with his fingers. “They act like they really care about, care about you?”

Connor lifts his head, fixating on Evan’s twiddling fingers. “They... yeah,” he says, seeming unsure of what more to say. “They’ve helped me out a lot.”

Evan can’t help the little smile on his lips. “I'm, um, it's nice?”

Connor sits up, just as Brooke comes by to drop off two hot chocolates, loaded with marshmallows, chocolate syrup in the shape of a little heart, and dusted with powdered sugar. It looks like steaming diabetes in a cup and that actually sounds pretty good right now, what with all the nerves rushing through him. He pulls the cup towards him, revelling in the way the warmth of the porcelain mug spreads through his still slightly chilled fingers.

Lunch kind of passes by in a rush after that. They just talk like they always do and despite the different setting, it feels no different than their usual conversations from the library. Evan is just as comfortable with Connor on this date as he was with Connor when they were snuggled up in their special spot in the library (Evan still wasn’t sure when it became _theirs_ instead of the _his_ but he wasn't complaining.) He’s almost surprised by this discovery but ultimately concludes that he’s just... secure with Connor, and that’s a strange thought because he’s hardly secure with _anyone._

Evan can't help but be disappointed when they eventually stand up to leave, almost an hour after finishing their meals. It's been so nice to be out of the house with someone other than Jared and it's even better that it’s with Connor. He’s really not ready for their first date to end.

“We’re not done quite yet,” Connor tells him, as if reading his mind. As soon as they’re stepping back into the cold, Connor begins to lead them down the street, taking the first right and heading further into the heart of their city. Connor doesn’t tell him where they’re heading and Evan, despite his anxiety about the unknown, doesn’t ask.

They end up standing in front of a museum. Evan’s walked past the museum hundreds of times living in the city but never once actually gone in and he’s a little surprised that this seems to be the place Connor decided to take him to. It wasn't even that it didn't seem like Connor’s scene or anything - the guys worked in a library after all - but rather because it wasn't a very usual first date.

Not that Evan had been on many first dates. Or any. There was the one blind date Jared had set up after Evan came out as bisexual to him. They had met at a small cafe and Evan had disappeared to have a panic attack in the bathroom. When he had finally been alright enough to leave, the man had disappeared. Evan doesn't think it could be considered a real date and he _really_ doesn’t want a repeat.

As soon as they step into the museum, out of the bite of the winter wind, Evan relaxes into the warmth of the opening hall. It didn't seem particularly busy, the floor only slightly dirty with the mud and slush dragged in from outdoors. Evan takes extra care to kick the snow off his boots before stepping into the tile. He pries off his gloves as he does so, shoving them and his scarf into the oversized jacket pockets. The scarf hangs out but doesn't drag on the floor, so he’s not too bothered.

As soon as Connor’s pulled off his own gloves, he’s locking their fingers together again and tugging Evan towards the front corner. The lady behind the counter smiles and greets them politely.

Connor pays their way in despite Evan’s protests -he had paid for lunch too, after all - and then he’s leading them through the museum.

It’s one of those big old historical buildings, probably over a century old. Only the outside of the museum truly betrays its age, though. The interior has been through dozens of renovations to keep it standing and also make it appear more modern. Evan thinks it used to be a library before the new public one had been built but even that had happened before it was born.

“So, um,” Evan asks, because neither of them had said anything since the cafe and if they didn’t start a conversation, he was going to think Connor was bored of him and his anxiety would eat away at him. “Why a, um, museum?”

“You don't like it?”

“No!” Evan quickly backtracks, “it’s, um, it's great. I just didn't expect- I'm sorry.”

“Evan, I was joking.” There's this hint of a smile in the corner of Connor’s mouth when Evan peers up at him. He looks a little tense too though, unsure.

“Oh.”

“I guess I just thought it would be better than something stupid like a movie,” Connor shrugs and when he meets Evan’s eyes, Evan thinks he sees the insecurity. “Those seem to be the first thing everyone thinks about... you’re with the person but not really spending actual time with them?”

He buries the hand not holding Evan’s into his coat pocket, his shoulders falling insecurely. Evan smiles, giving Connor’s hand a squeeze.

“I, uh, like it,” he tells Connor. And he does. Evan’s genuinely impressed with Connor’s choice. It’s definitely helping that the museum is quiet, only a few couples here and there. The movies would have been crowded and the last thing Evan wanted was to have an anxiety attack on his first date with Connor. “I've never been here before.”

“The first time is always the best,” Connor tells him, sounding almost... excited? “I think you’ll like it.”

The museum is some kind of fusion of history and science, which is really neat. It mainly has the history of America, but it ties in world history when it can. There's a massive section dedicated to the history of their own area, which turns out be pretty cool. He never realized how much he didn't know about the city.

Connor seems incredibly interested in the history. He’s not even reading off all the plaques, instead reciting what they say, seemingly from memory, throwing in his own facts. He seems genuinely passionate about it, talking the slightest bit faster than he usually does, a little lift in his voice. Evan loves listening to him. He doesn't think he’s ever heard speak Connor so animatedly.

It's also just nice to see a new side of Connor that he couldn't have expected. Despite the entire librarian, bookworm thing, Evan never would have guessed that Connor was such a massive dork. It was... really adorable.

He’s more than content to just listen, until they arrive at an exhibit of natural sciences. His eyes widen in excitement and he tears out of Connor’s grip, flailing his hands excitedly.

“I was studying this in school last semester!” He says enthusiastically, waving Connor over to a diagram that explains toxicity in soil and how it affects the plants that grow and organisms that are able to reside there. His eyes scan over the little plaque, whispering the words as he reads. Connor waits patiently for him to read and then Evan is on the next exhibit just as quickly, something about local insects. Most people probably don't find pinned insect corpses that interesting, but Evan is hardly most people. He’s utterly  _entranced_ by the collection of butterflies, beetles, and bees.

“This one can wipe out a forest,” Evan tells Connor, pointing at a Bark Beetle. “I got taught to recognize them when I was a ranger. They dig these holes into trees and kill them so we have to cut them down and remove them so they don't spread. It's pretty insane but they actually wipe out hundreds of thousands of trees everyday.” Evan crinkles his nose in distaste. “They had to cut down my favourite tree because of these guys.”

Connor snorts behind him. “You had a _favourite tree_?”

“Uh... yeah,” Evan says, his hand immediately jumping to the hem of his shirt. God, that was lame wasn’t it? Connor’s going to think he’s a total weirdo and he didn't even know half of how upset Evan was when they cut down the tree. “I know it's strange- I mean, it was just a tree, but-”

“It's cute,” Connor assures him, cutting him off mid ramble. “Maybe a bit different, but cute.”

Evan’s face flushes. “It's the tree I... fell, I _fell_ out of it, back in high school. I kept telling myself, every day, that I was going to climb it one day but I never did.” He swallows hard, remembering how often he imagined climbing it for reasons he didn't really want to think of. “And then when I did, I fell from the top.”

Connor’s watching him, he can feel his eyes boring into his back. He forces a small, shaky laugh. “I was completely fine!”

He wonders if Connor notices the way his word broke on the last word. Probably- it was pretty damn obvious and Connor was going to ask him about it and he was going to have to lie or worse, tell the truth, and he wasn't ready for Connor to know-

“Here, they have a botanical garden through here,” Connor says, taking Evan’s hand and leading him away from the pinned beetles and his runaway thoughts. Evan’s hands are sweaty and he wishes Connor wasn't holding on so tightly, as if he _knows._ “I actually brought you because of it, I thought you’d enjoy it.”

He’s sure, if the look on Connor’s face is anything to go by, that the man is storing their conversation for another time, a time Evan dreads and would rather avoid. But for now, the distraction is more than effective and extremely appreciated.

A botanical garden! He had no idea they had one in the city.

Connor leads him out of the hall and through a well-lit corridor that overlooks a courtyard covered in untouched snow.

The garden is past a heavy glass door that Connor holds open for Evan, and ends up continuing to hold it for a group of people flooding out of the garden. Stepping inside made Evan immediately forget about the piles of snow he had just seen. The room was warm and humid and _green_. He resists the urge to run into it, instead hovering next to Connor as the people trickle out.

“It’s incredible,” Evan breaths, immediately categorizing and naming the trees he recognizes, identifying the shrubbery and flowers. “Connor-”

“Connor!” Evan turns when he hears Connor’s name from yet another stranger. He's tall, with dark hair and a smile that sets Evan on edge. Unlike with Brooke and Chloe, Connor doesn't seem pleased to see him, instead he... bristles. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” Connor says through clenched teeth, not even trying to feign friendliness. “It's been a while.”

The man reaches out and grasps Connor’s shoulder with all the confidence and ease of an old friend, his smile growing. “We should... catch up sometime, I've missed you.”

Connor doesn't reply, taking a sharp step back and out of the man’s grip. He’s gone strangely silent, his head ducked. Evan can feel the _wrongness_ of the situation but he doesn't understand, he just knows this man isn't someone Connor wants around - and he's not leaving, even with his date tugging on his arm.

Evan grabs Connor’s arm, feels the man tense beneath his fingers. “Connor...” he’s not sure what he planned to say. What if Connor didn't want him interrupting? What if he had read everything all wrong - no, Connor was uncomfortable and Evan needed to get him away from this stranger. “Let’s go.”

He drags Connor away, down one of the winding paths of the garden. When he turns, the stranger is following them with his eyes but upon catching Evan’s gaze, only smiles and makes his way out of the room, the frosted glass door clicking shut behind him. Evan immediately lets go of Connor, stepping back to give him space. Connor’s silent, not saying anything. A minute ticks by.

“Connor...” Evan says, softly, searching Connor’s face for a sign of anything, any flickering emotion but he’s blank, breathing shallowly. It reminds Evan of his own panic attacks- oh god, is Connor having a panic attack? Did meeting that stranger trigger this? “Connor, are you alright?”

He doesn't react. It’s like he's not even there. There's no alarm, no fear, no panic - he’s not having an attack. At least, not the type Evan has, but something is definitely wrong.

“Can I do anything to help?” He asks. He's not sure if Connor is okay with physical contact at this point and has no intention of making the situation worse with the wrong choice. “Do you need to sit down? Something to drink?”

Connor shakes his head, opens his mouth to speak and then snaps it shut, unable to form words. It's something.

“Are you alright with touch?”

Another shake of the head.

“Can we walk?”

A moment of hesitation and then the smallest nod. He doesn't move.

Evan reaches forward, careful not to touch Connor himself but grips the strap of his messenger bag. He double checks Connor for any sign that this wasn't alright. There’s no change so he gives a light tug, leading Connor through the garden.

At first it’s silent, painfully so, until Evan can’t stand it anymore and begins to ramble about the flora and fauna surrounding them.

He's not even sure if Connor has the mind to pay attention to what he’s say, if it's making it better or worse but after he starts, he can't stop. He's too scared of what comes after, because he's not sure how to deal with Connor while he's like this. He's scared of making it worse.

“Those bushes - they, um, produce berries that are toxic to eat?” Evan says, even though it feels like he’s talking to air. He takes a deep breath - it’s just talking about plants. He does this all the time. “But they’re fine for most animals. Their roots are pretty shallow, you could pull them up really easily with the right manpower. And those flowers-”

He continues to talk nonstop, constantly glancing at Connor to make sure he’s alright, occasionally checking in with questions. He tries not to do so too much-  he doesn’t want to annoy Connor by pushing any issues. He apologizes between each question before returning to his educational chatter.

By the time they circle around their third time, maybe an hour has passed. Connor’s starting to come back to himself, the glazed over look disappearing from his eyes. Evan freezes when Connor reaches for his hand.

“Are you doing better?” he asks, the words sounding too repetitive on his lips.

Connor answers in a small nod, the movement so subtle it's hardly noticeable.

“Do you want to head out?”

Another nod, more sure. Evan guides them out, looking around the hallway almost suspiciously. The stranger wasn’t lurking, so he deems it safe enough to lead them out, back to the main foyer. They’re almost at the doors when Connor finally speaks up.

“Sorry.”

Evan thinks it’s the first time he’s ever heard the eternally unapologetic Connor Murphy utter that word.

“Don’t... Don’t be,” he says almost immediately. “It’s not your fault- I mean, things happen and-”

Connor is enveloping him in a hug. It's warm and almost overwhelming and after everything the day had thrown at them, more intimate than any moment they had shared to date. Evan returns the hug, hesitantly at first and then gripping Connor tighter. He can’t help it, he’s just so _relieved._ He’s surprised when the man melts into his embrace, expecting the opposite.

“I’m sorry,” Connor repeats.

“You’re fine. It’s fine,” Evan says. “I enjoyed it, I was just happy being with you.”

Connor let’s out a small, choked laugh. “Yeah. I’m glad it wasn’t a total disaster. Most things with me are.”

 _Well_ , Evan thinks as they stand there holding each other, _that makes two of us_.

* * *

“He wrote me a _poem_ , Evan. A _poem._ And he took me out for dinner. He has a little sister and he never shuts up about her and you’d think it would be annoying but it’s _adorable_ ,” Jared gushes over the phone. Evan smiles softly at his friend’s happiness, absentmindedly playing with his shirt as he listens to Jared ramble. Normally he hates talking on the phone but Jared calls him all the time and he’s slowly becoming more and more comfortable with it. “He's been texting me nonstop, he’s a fucking sap.”

“I'm happy for you, Jared,” Evan tells him honestly, “Philip seems really sweet.”

He still can't really believe that Jared made the first move but he really was happy for Jared. He never really stops talking about Philip these days but at least he's happy, which means he’s being less of an asshole than usual.

“He is,” Jared sighs, sounding almost breathless. Evan thinks he’s about to go off about Philip again and mentally prepares himself. “How're you and the librarian? Do you guys have weird kinky library sex? That sounds like something that would happen in a situation like this-”

“No, Jared! No!” Evan flushes and he’s really glad Jared can’t see him. “But. Um, we’re good. Alright. He walked me home the other night, after, um, our date.”

He still doesn't know exactly where they stand but he’s... genuinely happy. He likes that whatever they are, wherever they are, they are... something.

“That sounds _super_ convincing. What's up?”

“I just... don't have a guideline, I've never done a relationship before... I don't... want to mess it up.”

“Well, you haven't so far so that's a sign.”

“I- I guess.”

“Speaking of, shouldn’t you be at the library by now?”

“Jared, it’s spring break. I’m not going to the library to just sit there.”

“So it’s his day off then and you have no one to have library sex with, is what you’re saying.”

“I do homework when I go,” Evan tells him, completely flustered. “We don’t have sex!”

“So just really hot make out sessions then.”

“Jared!” The doorbell suddenly echoes through the house, startling Evan. “I- I gotta go, someone’s at the door.”

“Hope it's not a murderer,” Jared jokes as Evan’s stomach drops. “Good luck, Acorn.”

The line goes dead and Evan reluctantly pushes himself off from the bed. Answering the door is the last thing he wants to do but he should at least check who it was. With any luck it was just someone trying to sell something - he could ignore them if that was the case.

He reaches the door and freezes. He doesn’t want to do this - he couldn’t do this.

 _It’s just answering a door,_ he tells himself, attempting to regulate his breathing as it suddenly quickens. He was _not_ having a panic attack over answering the door.

Except he was.

The knock sounds again and he flattens himself against the wall next to the door, cursing himself. He forced himself to breathe, to think, convincing himself that it would be fine.

He takes a deep breath and looks through the peephole.

Then he's scrambling to unlock the door and flings it open. “Connor? What’re you doing here?”

Connor avoids his eyes, staring at the ground instead, his hair down and covering his face. There's that small frown tugging at his lips that makes Evan worry more than he cares to admit. He shrugs half heartedly in response to Evan’s question, his hands jammed into his sweater’s pockets.

“I, uh,” he starts. “Can I just, hang out here for a little while?”

“Um, sure. It’s- it's kinda a mess, I'm sorry,” Evan mumbles, opening the door wider and allowing Connor to step in. He pushes the door shut behind him and leans on it. “We don't- no one comes over except for, um, for Jared? So... it’s really messy, I'm sorry.”

“It's fine,” Connor says. He sounds so tired, his voice raw as though he has just finished crying. “I didn't really give you any warning.”

They stand awkwardly in the doorway. Evan plays with his shirt, bounces his leg. “Do you want to- to go to my room? I was working on homework. Is- is that okay? We could watch a movie or-”

“That's fine,” Connor says in the same tired tone. Evan doesn't know what else to say so he takes Connor’s hand in his, intertwining their fingers and leads him to his bedroom.

He's kinda embarrassed to have Connor in his room - there's laundry all over the floor and containers from yesterday's take-out on his desk. And then there's his walls, covered in pictures of trees that he had taken himself throughout the years. Jared teasing him endlessly about them but Connor barely seems to notice or care about any of these things. He just drops himself into Evan’s desk chair. It spins as he slumps backwards into it. Evan takes the textbook he was reading from the desk and settles into the bed, scooting backwards until his back is against the wall.

He doesn't open it and instead turns to Connor with a concerned look. His eyes are squeezed shut, his jaw clenched. “Connor? Are you alright?”

The answer is so very clearly no, he’s not, something is wrong, but Connor just nods and - well, there's nothing Evan can do if he’s not willing to talk about it. “I'm fine. Just. Study, or whatever.”

“Well... alright then...”

Evan sighs and flips open his book to where he had left off. He gets a little bit lost in the reading - the affect and pollination of certain trees within a close range is utterly  _fascinating_ to him, even if no one else thinks so.

He finishes three pages before looking up to check on Connor.

Connor’s watching him, his expression entirely neutral. Evan’s face heats under his gaze. “Uh-”

“You murmur the words as you read,” Connor tells him.

“Oh, um, I'm sorry-”

“It's nice.”

He’s so... _empty_ , devoid of any decipherable emotion. It makes Evan’s heart ache for him. He wants to help Connor, he really does, but he has no idea how. He doubts Connor’s going to actually talk about the problem though. But maybe... Evan gets the feeling that more than anything, Connor just doesn't want to be alone right now. What other reason would he show up unannounced?

And that was something he could help with.

He pats the bed next to him invitingly and is surprised at how quickly Connor moves to fill the empty space. He leans back against the wall, shoulder to shoulder with Evan, and sighs deeply.

Now that he's so close, Evan can see how dark the bags under Connor’s eyes are. He does look like he could have been crying.

Evan doesn't comment and goes back to his reading.

Connor relaxes as he reads out loud, drooping against his shoulder and next thing Evan knows, Connor’s head is in his lap. He absentmindedly runs his fingers through Connor’s hair as he continues to read and when he finishes the chapter, Connor is asleep.

He closes the book and sets it aside quietly to study Connor’s face.

He looks genuinely at peace when he sleeps, in a way Evan’s never seen him before. Even when he's smiling, laughing, there's always that edge- and now it's gone, eased by unconsciousness. His lips are parted and his chest rises and falls slowly. Evan finds himself matching Connor’s breathing as he memorizes his face, from each small blemish to the way his eyelashes curl and the little scar in his eyebrow, to the way his cheekbones curve sharply and the circles under his eyes. They look lighter now, while he’s sleeping. It makes him look younger.

Evan continues to play with his hair, alternating between twisting it around his finger and running his fingers through the wavy strands. He wants to connect Connor’s freckles with his fingers but he fears waking him up and well, that would be a strange thing to explain to him.

Evan’s fingers freeze running through Connor’s hair when Connor suddenly goes tense. He makes a small, strangled noise in the back of his throat as his face scrunches. He sounds... scared. And then he’s letting out a cry that's unlike anything Evan would have ever expected from him.

“Connor?” Evan says, so softly. He doesn’t know whether to wake up Connor or not. If he’s having a bad dream it could be a good idea or it could upset him further, waking up in an unfamiliar environment. He pushes Connor’s hair out of his face and speaks again, louder, “Connor, it’s alright.”

He thinks back to what his parents did for nightmares when he had them. His mom had always held him close and assured him nothing bad would get him while she was there. Something tells him that wouldn’t work. And then his dad-

He swallows hard and when Connor clenches his fists and lets out another cry, he panics and begins to sing from memory,

“ _Der Mond ist aufgegangen,_

_Die goldnen Sternlein prangen_

_Am Himmel hell und klar;_

_Der Wald steht schwarz und schweiget,_

_Und aus den Wiesen steiget_

_Der weiße Nebel wunderbar._ ”

It seems to work or maybe Connor’s nightmare has simply passed. He’s relaxing into Evan’s lap once more. Evan continues regardless, gently pushing Connor’s hair out of his face. There’s a thin layer of sweat across his brow and Evan wipes it away with his sleeve as he continues,

“ _Wie ist die Welt so stille,_

_Und in der Dämmrung Hülle_

_So traulich und so hold!_

_Als eine stille Kammer,_

_Wo ihr des Tages Jammer_

_Verschlafen und vergessen sollt.”_

He finally tears his eyes away from Connor’s face, leaning his head back against the wall. He doesn’t catch Connor’s eyes cracking open, or the man looking up at him with an unreadable expression before he lets himself go back to sleep in the comfort of Evan’s arms.

Evan follows moments later, his hand going still in Connor’s hair.

 

Heidi arrives home hours later to a silent house. She pulls off her shoes and frowns as she spies a pair of unfamiliar shoes next to Evan’s. Did he have Jared over? Normally Evan texted her when he was over but it wouldn’t be the first time he forgot.

The money she left for Evan to order food is still sitting on the counter which is strange because Jared is usually pretty good at ordering them food and making sure Evan eats. It makes her feel like something was wrong and the silence over the house certainly doesn’t help. There’s usually a movie or at least music playing when Jared’s over but today... nothing.

Heidi sighs and makes her way up the stairs to check on Evan. His door is closed.  

She hesitates outside his door and then reaches for the knob. It clicks open and creaks as it she pushes it open enough to peek in. The room is lit only by Evan’s small desk lamp. It casts a warm glow, just bright enough for Heidi to see Evan laying in bed, fast asleep. He’s not alone and Heidi can already tell the second figure isn’t her best friend’s son.  

Heidi slips the door open a bit more and steps into the room. The light of the hallway allows her to make out the second figure, a young man she doesn’t recognize in the slightest. He and Evan are lying together, the latter’s face pressed into the neck of the stranger and the stranger's fingers tangled in his hair.

Heidi smiles softly and leaves the bedroom to retrieve a blanket from the hall closet. When she returns, the stranger is looking at the open door, squinting through the light. He looks more than half asleep but stiffens when her shadow falls over the pair.

“I should-” he mutters, suddenly quite awake and attempting to sit up.

“Go back to sleep,” she tells him because there’s no way she’s making some kid get up and walk home at this time of night and it wasn’t really her place to be kicking anyone out of her son’s bed without some kind of justification. He was an adult after all.

“Go...” the word dies on his lips and he stares at her.

“You’re fine,” she tells him. “I brought a blanket, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“Oh,” he says and relaxes back. Neither of them miss the way Evan’s fingers clutch at his shirt and attempts to draw him closer. The stranger immediately complies and Evan hides his face against his shoulder once more. There’s a pause and then the young man reaches out to take the blanket from Heidi. She shakes her head before unfolding it and throwing it over the two of them. “Er... thanks.”

Heidi offers him a smile, walking over to partially close the window’s blinds. She sees the book Evan had discarded on the bed earlier and moves it to his desk. She reaches to flick off the lamp, her hand hesitating on the switch. “On or off?”

“Um.” He sounds a little uncomfortable but moreso unsure of how to react to her gestures. “On.”

Heidi drops her hand. “What’s your name?”

“Connor.”

The name sounds familiar. She can’t place why, though.

“Good night then, Connor.”

“Uh. Yeah. Goodnight.”

She turns to close the door behind her, watches as Connor turns his attention back to Evan, hides his faces in his hair and closes his eyes. They look so content, so comfortable in each other’s embrace and while it warms Heidi’s heart she can't help but feel a bit upset that Evan had never told her about Connor. She had her suspicions when he went out to ‘study’ on Valentine's Day but she didn't want to, never wanted to, push anything out of Evan. She wants him to be able to trust her enough to tell him herself without prompting.

The door clicks shut behind her. She can save her questions for another day.

* * *

Evan awakes with a start the next day from a knock on his bedroom door. He jolts up, ripping himself out of Connor’s grasp and breathing heavily, almost hyperventilating. Connor seems to have already been awake and watches as Evan flails helplessly.

“Evan?” his mom’s voice floats through the door. “They called me into work early. Don’t forget to take your meds and please eat something.”

“Uh- yeah, sure,” he replies, praying to god she doesn’t come in. It wasn’t like he was ashamed to be with Connor or anything, he just wasn’t out to her. He didn’t want her to find out like this and while he was sure she wouldn’t react badly, there was no saying for sure and Evan hated the unknown. “I will.”

She pauses on the other side of the door and Evan fears she might march in. “Okay. Have a good day sweetheart.”

Her footsteps fade as she heads downstairs. Evan slumps down next to Connor.

“Not out to your mom?” Connor asks, his hand seeking and finding Evan’s. He intertwines their fingers together. Evan lets out a sigh and shakes his head.

“Um... the... whole bisexual thing? It’s... pretty recent,” Evan tells him, his face flushing. “Um, I kinda only found out in my first year of... of college - so, um, just last year, because I took a gap year to save up - and I’ve never... never actually- um, never mind. What... what about your parents?”

Connor stiffens.

“Sorry, I just-”

“It’s fine. They know,” Connor says, releasing his grip on Evan’s hand but not breaking contact. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

So they don’t. They just lay together silently as the room fills with the dawn’s light. Connor’s mood definitely hasn’t improved any from last night, his eyes still blank, tired; his lips pulled down in a frown. Evan feels as though he’s done something wrong, overstepped a boundary, but Connor’s still lying with him,  free hand on his hip and rubbing circles with his thumb against Evan’s hip, so he can't be too mad... right?

It's only after the front door clicks shut, signaling Heidi’s departure, that Connor peels himself away from Evan and rolls off the bed. Evan pushes himself upright on the now strangely empty bed and draws his knees to his chest.

“I’m, um, off school for a week,” Evan tells Connor, watching as he lifts his arms over his head and stretches. His hair’s a complete mess and his clothes are rumpled from sleeping in them. “If you- um, if you want to do something, maybe.”

Connor doesn't answer for a moment and that irrational tic in the back of Evan’s mind blows it out of proportion, telling him he did something wrong last night or this morning. He did something wrong and Connor was going to leave and never talk to him again.

“Yeah,” Connor finally says. He tries to offer Evan a reassuring half-smile that doesn't reach his eyes and isn't even that convincing but his voice is genuine. “Of course. I have Monday off.” He pauses. “We could watch a movie at my house or something. I don't- I don't really want to go out.” Evan’s face falls and he hurries to correct himself upon seeing it, “Not because I don't want to be seen with you, or anything. I do, I just... don't want to be out right now. Around people.”

“Oh. Okay.” Evan swallows, his anxiety settling onto the back burner of his mind. He licks his lips. “That sounds good, yeah.”

It's weird saying goodbye to Connor after spending the night together. They didn't do anything except sleep and yet... between that and Connor’s unexpected vulnerability, the entire night suddenly feels ridiculously intimate. It's an intimacy Evan doesn’t really know what to do with yet, having no experience with anything like it.

He clambers out of bed when Connor hovers awkwardly at the door and they walk to the front door in silence.

“Um,” Connor starts after pulling on his shoes. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Evan tells him because, despite the circumstance, the night had been... nice. Just being with Connor in such an intimate manner... it eased something inside of him, made him feel important and wanted and maybe even needed. “I’ll see you tonight? At the library?”

Connor’s lip twitches upwards into something of a half smile. It fades quickly but at least it was genuine. He opens the door, allowing a light breeze to flow through the hall. It plays with Connor’s hair and he pushes it back out of his face absentmindedly. “Yeah, I'll see you.”

Evan wraps his arms around Connor without thinking, drawing him into a hug. There's a moment where Connor kind of freezes before returning the embrace. Tightly. Evan can feel Connor press his face into his hair, plant a kiss against his temple. It makes Evan feel all warm and happy, even a little giddy- and then Connor pulls away, slightly hesitantly, his touch lingering.

“See you tonight,” he reaffirms before shutting the door behind him.

* * *

Three days later, he finds himself at Connor’s house. Up until Evan’s break, their schedules had conflicted in a way that allowed a little more than the occasional lunch date or grabbing a coffee on their way to the library. He didn’t really imagine hanging out at Connor’s house would be too different from their dates or times at the library.

Probably.

Connor’s home turns out to be just a few blocks south of the library. It’s in something of a rough neighbourhood, a shoddy little townhouse. The first step up the balcony was broken down the center, propped up with a cinder block. The small patches of grass that framed the sidewalk were overgrown with weeds though they were withered and covered in frost. There was an old coffee tin next to the door filled with cigarette butts that Evan eyes distastefully before knocking on the door.

Honestly, the place made his home look like the American Dream.

He only has to wait a few moments before he heard footsteps from the other side of the door. They stop, the lock clicks, and the door swings open to an unfamiliar face.

The man stares blankly at him for a minute and then proceeds to slam the door in his face. There’s some shouting from the other side of the door that Evan can’t quite make out but it makes him want to run. Hell, maybe he had the wrong address or-

The door slips open and there’s yet another unfamiliar face. The person has a handsome face framed with dark hair, a look of indifference set firmly in place. He doesn’t appear much older than Evan, with sharp eyes that seem almost... haunted? He’s shirtless and Evan can see the scars on his chest. _Oh_. He catches Evan starring and his indifference turns into a glare. “Evan, right?”

Evan opens his mouth to speak, only to find he can’t actually manage any words as he is seized with sudden anxiety. Instead, he nods sharply, his fingers finding the hem of his shirt. Connor never told him he had  _roommates_.

The stranger pulls the door open a bit further and steps aside. Evan takes this as permission to enter. He sidesteps past him awkwardly into the house, hoping with every fiber of his being that he doesn’t do something stupid, doesn’t fuck up or embarrass himself. The door swings shut behind him and he’s forced to step further in the house.

The guy who let him in disappears. Evan’s left hovering uncomfortably in the entrance. He doesn’t know where to go and he doesn’t want to wander around the house, so he pulls out his phone and texts Connor.

_I’m here._

_Your roommate let me in_

_He’s kinda scary :(_

_Where are you?_

Connor doesn’t answer and Evan’s left to study his surroundings while he waits.

The inside is nicer than the exterior of the house, at least. Or maybe that’s because it feels more like a messy, lived in home rather than an abandoned shack. The stairs leading up to the second floor were just past the entrance hall to the left and what appears to be a den to the right. Further back, maybe the kitchen, with what could be a tiny bathroom squeezed in between. The walls were covered in posters and flags, everything from an out of place French flag to band posters and rainbow marijuana leaves. Huh.

Evan musters up the bravery to step further into the house. He was right about there being a den to the right. It’s filled with mismatching furniture and the coffee table in the middle was piled high with books, magazines, an ashtray, a few dirty dishes, and things Evan didn’t really recognize but he assumed to have something to do with weed considering how the faint smell of it lingers in the air.

It’s basically what he would expect from a group of men in their early twenties living together.

It takes him a moment to notice the man who slammed the door in his face is lounging across the biggest couch. He doesn’t really seem no notice of Evan’s presence or maybe he just really doesn’t care. Which would make sense because his attention is clearly taken by the TV. It’s playing some drama or romance in a romance Evan doesn’t understand. There are no subtitles.

Evan finds his eyes glued to the TV too because, well, there wasn’t much else _to_ do while he waited, and it beat having a full blown panic attack from being left alone. It’s ridiculously theatrical, dramatic and pretentious. He doesn’t even need to understand French (he’s assuming it’s French, considering the massive flag pinned up) to understand that much.

“Shit, sorry about that, Ev.”

Evan nearly jumps out of his skin. He spins to face Connor, fully intending on telling him off for leaving him here alone, for making him meet his scary roommates by himself, for not answering his texts- and the words never make it out. In fact, he’s pretty sure his entire brain short circuits.

Connor’s wet hair falls around his shoulders, his skin still damp from the shower he had clearly just stepped out of. He’s in his usual black skinny jeans and a shirt that Evan’s sure he’s seen before. But for the first time in all their time together, Evan’s seeing him without one of his ridiculous (but strangely charming) thrift shop grandpa sweaters, seeing his bare arms.

He swallows hard.

He sort of assumed, guessed that Connor would have scars hidden beneath the long sleeves he always wore regardless of the weather. He just never expected them to be so _bad._ Angry scars criss crossed both of his wrists and forearms. On his right arm, some of them weren’t even scars yet, just angry red bumps or worse, lines that looked as though they had just recently scabbed over.

And then there was a tattoo. Or rather, tattoos. Spreading down from his upper left arm, the first one he notices are a series of interlocking gears. They’re frozen, some of them rusted, and in the upper corner, a series of vines curl around them. A flower blooms between them, peeking out through the gears. There's words that Evan can't make out, a few small tattoos that ranged from birds taking flight to scattered stars. His entire forearm is taken by a rather detailed skeleton. It’s body cuts off at the hips and there’s more flowers. Wrapped around it's ribcage is a ribbon and Connor is close enough to make out the words “ _the skeletons i hide have much thicker skin than me”_ in slanted, cursive lettering. The tattoo is a clear attempt to cover the jagged scars but Evan still sees the fading pink lines that peek out from beneath them. On his wrist, just below his thumb, he sees a small semi colon.

It’s hard to tear his eyes away until he realizes that Connor is staring at him in uncertainty and well, Evan knows better than to point out someone’s self-destructive tendencies. It wouldn’t help him or Connor to bring them up so instead he goes, “Sorry, I showed up a bit early.”

Connor’s shoulders relax and he offers a small smile. Evan’s heart aches. “It’s fine. I’m sorry I made you spend any time alone with that asshole.” He nods his head in the direction of the den.

“N-no, he was fi-,” Evan stops in the middle of his defense when he remembers how he slammed the door in his face. “It’s fine.”

“It’s alright. Absolutely no one in this house likes Grantaire,” Connor tells Evan and he is rewarded with a small chuckle and the man in question lazily flipping him the bird over the couch. “We can go watch movies downstairs,” Connor tells Evan, “unless you want to continue watching shitty french dramas without subtitles.”

Evan’s face betrayed that no, he would really not appreciate that, and then he’s being lead through the hall, past the washroom, and into the kitchen. Evan can see through the large glass sliding door that their backyard and patio is just as sad as the front. But at least there’s a tree back there, a little apple tree that’s beginning to bud small green leaves in the early spring. Evan is so distracted thinking about everything he could recall about apple trees that he doesn’t pay any heed to Connor rummaging through the kitchen. They’re part of the rose family. They’re deciduous. They potentially originated from Asia and can live up to a hundred years old. They-

“You ready to go or would you rather go on a date with the tree?” Connor jokes from the top of the stairway, which is next to the dining room table across the room. His arms are filled with snacks and a couple sodas. He’s got a dopey little smile pulling at his lips from watching Evan.

“Oh shut up,” Evan mumbles, his face heating up. He jabs Connor in the side for good measure. “Here, let me help you.”

Evan takes what he can carry from Connor and follows him down into the basement.

It’s dark and unfinished and just as messy as upstairs. Much more open though, except for what he can only assume to be the laundry room to his immediate left, a small bathroom right next to it, and a closed door on the far wall. The furniture also matches a bit better though, with blankets thrown haphazardly over the backs. There's a huge bookcase next to the TV stand, which is piled with game machines beneath the large wall-mounted TV, stuffed full of DVDs. There’s a piled of board games in the corner, looking as though they haven’t been played in sometime.

“So, um, your roommates?” Evan starts, placing the sodas down on the table. Connor follows suit, dropping the armful of snacks onto the table with much less care. Evan watches as he moves to dig through the DVDs. “Are they always like that?”

“Grantaire? Yeah,” Connor tells him, shifting a massive pile of DVDs to reveal an entirely new row behind them. “He doesn’t even have a job. Just spends all day watching those shitty dramas and pretending he’s back in France.”

“He’s French?”

Connor snorts. “Yeah. I have no fucking clue how he ended up here. Followed his crush to America or some shit.”

“Oh.” Evan can kinda see it. “And-.” it strikes him that he never learned the other guys' name. Connor seems to realize the same thing.

“Jason,” Connor supplies. He appears to have found the movie he was looking for and drops it into the player. “He’s not always awful,” He concedes, not taking his eyes off the screen as it lights up. “Sometimes he’s high.”

Evan doesn’t know if that’s a joke or not so he chooses to play it safe and not comment.

“What movie is it?” Evan asks instead as Connor joins him on the couch. The previews start rolling and from the look of the previews, the movie has to be from the 90’s. It just has that feeling.

“ _10 Things I Hate About You_ ,” Connor tells him. “I simply cannot let you go another day without Heath Ledger’s sexy ass in your life.”

“Aren’t you supposed to want me to keep my eyes _away_ from other men?”

Connor waves dismissively. “There’s always an exception.”

As soon as Patrick makes his appearance, Evan decides that Heath Ledger is _indeed_ an exception. He couldn’t even be jealous of Connor’s obvious hard-on for the guy. He was _fine._

Evan doesn’t mind the movie, it’s actually pretty cute. But for being Connor’s favourite movie, he doesn’t seem to be too engaged in it. Every time Evan glances over, he catches Connor staring at him. Usually he’s quick to turn his eyes back to the screen but when Evan glances his way as Patrick and Kat share their first kiss, Connor doesn’t look away.

Then he’s kissing Evan, simple and sweet and Evan's heart flutters in his chest. He expect Connor to pull away and go back to the movie, but he doesn’t and next thing Evan knows, Connor’s straddling him, his face hovering above his own. He kisses Evan’s forehead, his cheeks, his nose... Evan doesn’t know what to make of it, but he’s certainly not complaining.

Connor connects their lips again, this time in a slow, deep, searing kiss that makes Evan’s toes curl and his heart race, thump as though it could beat out of his chest at any moment. He can taste the usual smoke on Connor’s tongue, but it’s a little... different. He pulls away, panting, and looks up at Connor.

“Are you... high?” The thought of Connor high makes him a little uncomfortable for reasons he doesn’t really want to think about. “Sorry- I’m just being-”

“A little,” Connor admits and Evan’s stomach drops. “I smoked before I showered though, I’m sobering up.”

That’s not too bad then, Evan tells himself. He’s sobering up and well... he doesn’t seem any different than normal so Evan’s probably just making a big deal of it and Connor’s going to think he’s weird if he keeps sitting here not saying anything. “Oh, okay.”

“Are you alright?” Connor looks concerned.

“I... yeah. I’m fine,” Evan lies, avoiding Connor’s eyes because then Connor would see that he wasn’t fine and probably think he’s a loser for getting upset because Connor was high. Or worse - Connor could ask why he was upset and Evan really didn’t want to admit how easily he got upset over things that were so pointless. “I’m fine,” he repeats, and it takes everything he has to force nonchalance onto his face before turning to Connor. He cups his Connor’s face between his palms and pulls him towards him, resuming their kiss in an attempt to distract Connor.

Somehow, it works for both of them. Even Evan is getting a little bit lost in Connor’s lips moving slowly against his. He barely notices Connor’s hands disappear under the hem of his shirt, resting on his hips until Connor pulls away from their kiss.

“Is this okay?” He asks Evan, his fingers brushing across Evan’s skin. Evan shivers under the touch.

“Um,” Evan swallows hard, ignoring the sinking of his stomach. “Yeah. It is.”

It wasn’t like he minded the touch, after all.

He didn’t.

At all.

Probably.

Connor kisses his again and it’s completely different from the ones they had stolen at the library. It’s heavier, slower, and far more intense. It felt good, incredible, but he couldn’t shake the way his insides twist in discomfort. He should be fine, because this is Connor. Connor’s not going to hurt him. Even Connor’s hand on his stomach, trailing fire up his sides, on his chest, feels _good_ yet he can’t help but feel _wrong_.

Evan forces himself to inhale when Connor breaks away, peppering kisses down across his jaw. Breathe. Connor nips playfully at his neck. _Breathe_ . Connor trails his tongue across his collar. _BREATHE_.

“Evan,” Connor pants and Evan feels his name, the faintest puff of air, ghosting across the damp skin. Evan shivers because he’s so overwhelmed and his heart is pounding and his chest is tight and he’s struggling to breathe-

“I’m sorry!”

Evan sits up suddenly, scooting backwards until his lower back is pressed against the armrest. His throat is tight as he struggles to breathe, to catch his breath. He squeezes his eyes shut, forces his lungs to work - in, out, in, out - as he buries his hands in his hair and draws his needs up to his chest. Embarrassingly, he can feel the tears gathering behind his closed eyes.

Somewhere, a door swings open. Evan hears it hit the wall and flinches, drawing further into himself.

“Oh, hey Connor,” a new, unfamiliar voice calls from the distance. They’re probably closer than Evan thinks they are and he wishes they weren’t there at all. He wishes Connor wasn’t there. He wishes he wasn’t there. “Is he alright?” The voice sounds closer, almost right next to him. “It looks like he’s having an anxiety attack. Just- try to make sure he takes deep breaths. I’m going to go get water.”

The new person is off, footsteps fading as they bolt up the stairs.

“Evan?” Connor’s voice fills the uncomfortable silence. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- upset you?”

He sounds confused and Evan curses himself. He’s mortified and ashamed. This is all his fault - if he had just told Connor he was uncomfortable... but no, he had to pretend he was okay and now he can’t shake the thoughts out of his head. Connor would never do anything like _that_ and Evan knows it but he’s still panicking.

“I... I gotta step outside, for just, for just a minute?” Evan says, though he’s not sure how coherent his words come out. He jumps to his feet, wobbles, and books it up the stairs. He’s staring at his feet as he runs through the kitchen and doesn’t notice Jason until he’s too late. The two collide and while Jason retains his balance, Evan crashes to the floor. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“What the fuck, man?” Jason bites as Evan clambers to his feet. Behind Jason, Evan can see the other stranger step towards them and everything feels even more overwhelming than before. “Knock into me again and I’ll show you sorry, pendejo.”

“Jason, lay off him,” the stranger says reprimanding. Evan stumbles backwards, away from the two of them until he feels the wall against his back. No, not the wall - the back door. His hand searches for the knob and, fuck, it’s a sliding door. He finds the handle and flings it open, almost falling forward out the threshold but catching himself on the door. He slams it, the sound of the door hitting the frame making him jump.

He slides to the ground, the icy air biting into his skin. He drops to the ground, drawing his knees to his chest once again and flinches when he realizes the snow is going to leave his pants all wet and gross. And fuck- he’s in his socks too. This really wasn’t one of his better ideas.

God, he’s such an idiot - but at least now Connor knows how much of a freak he is, could leave him before it hurts Evan more. Not that it wouldn’t hurt now. The thought of Connor leaving him... it’s a lot, and they aren’t even officially together.

Oh god, he’s hyperventilating. The icy air is flooding into his lungs in sharp, quick breaths and his chest is beginning to ache. The door slides open and shut, much more gently than when he did it.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, take some deep breaths.”

Evan opens his eyes to see the stranger crouched down in front of him. He’s smiling, somewhat timidly, but his eyebrows are drawn together in concern. Evan sucks in a breath and the stranger’s smile becomes a bit more sure. Evan doesn’t say a word.

“I’m Michael,” he introduces himself. “And I’m sorry about Jason. He can be a complete asshole at times.” He pauses and they’re in complete silence for a moment. Then Michael straightens up and pulls something from his pocket. He lifts the rolled paper to his lips and lights up. Evan watches as he inhales deeply, holds his breath for a minute and then exhales the cloud of smoke. “He just doesn’t like you because he’s being stupid and protective of Connor. I don’t get it. One moment they act like they hate each other and they’re at each other’s throats nonstop and the next they’re overly protective of each other.” Michael takes another drag from the joint before extending out his hand. “Want a hit?”

Evan has uncurled himself somewhat, his attention focused on what Michael is saying. Michael’s rambling has helped distract him enough to start breathing normally again. He’s a little surprised at Michael’s offer and, never having had been offered drugs before, fairly flustered. He shakes his head and then manages, “N-no, I’m fine. I’m good.”  
Michael shrugs. “Fine by me, but maybe we should head in? Connor probably won’t forgive me if I let his boyfriend freeze his ass off.”

“We- we’re not-,” Evan blunders, but climbs to his feet nonetheless. He glances at the ground. “We’re not... dating. I mean, we’ve been on dates. But he’s not- he’s not my boyfriend, I don’t think. We haven’t said anything about it.”

“Oh,” Michael says, sounding almost taken aback by this. “I just imagined- huh.”

Evan peeks up at him in curiosity. “Imagined what?”

“Connor doesn’t really bring people around,” Michael tells him. “It’s probably why Jason’s especially pissy. Connor’s never really... I dunno, wanted anyone else around? The fact he spends so much time with you and even _talks_ about you is totally new to all of us. I figured you guys were... a thing.” Michael holds the door and he steps inside. His socks are wet and mushy and he winces in discomfort.

“Oh,” Evan says because his brain and heart are suddenly working all too quickly to process this new information and he can’t think of anything else to say. Connor _talked_ about him. To his roommates. And spent enough time with him that Michael thought they were... boyfriends. “I mean, I... I want to be. His boyfriend. I’m just- I didn’t think it was something he... wanted.”

“You’re both morons,” Michael says, almost fondly. Evan sighs as he leans against the wall and pulls off his wet, cold socks. “Here, I made you two some hot chocolate so just go - chill, talk shit out. I’m late for a date.”

Michael gives Evan a big smirk and shoves two mugs into his hands. They’re warm against Evan’s chilled fingers, almost searing. “Um, thanks. It was, um, it was nice meeting you.”

“Right back at you,” Michael says, giving him some sort of casual, mock salute. Or maybe it was a peace out. Evan couldn’t tell. “See ya, Treevan.”

Evan watches him go, eyes flickering between Michael’s retreating form and the stairs that would take him downstairs, back to Connor. He didn’t want to face Connor after that - it was so embarrassing and mortifying and Connor was probably going to ask questions.

His legs take him downstairs anyway, as if on autopilot.

Connor’s sitting the couch, face buried in his palms. Evan feels a pang of guilt because this was all his fault for being stupid. For having an anxiety attack over a stupid kiss. He takes a deep breath and walks towards him.

“I- um, I’m sorry,” he says, setting Connor’s hot chocolate down on the table in front of him. “Mich-Michael made us-”

The speed at which Connor’s head snaps up causes Evan to freeze mid sentence. Connor’s eyes boring into him don’t help the situation in any way. “Are you alright?”

“I’m sorry. Yeah, I’m fine... now... It was really stupid. I’m sorry,” Evan apologizes again, just for good measure. He drops to the couch next to Connor and avoids his eyes. “Can we... not talk about it? I’m sorry. I don’t-”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Connor tells him and his shoulders slump in relief. “But are you honestly okay?”

“Yes. I mean- I will be, okay that is. This happens a lot.” Evan falls silent, looks down into his mug. He’s waiting for Connor to decide that he’s too much, to ask him to leave or kick him out or mock him for freaking out. He doesn’t. They just sit in awkward silence until Evan impulsively blurts, “Um, Connor? What... what are we?”

“What are we?” Connor mirrors questioningly. “Like, what our relationship is?”

“Oh, never mind, it’s stupid. I shouldn’t have said anything, just ignore it, maybe we could rewind the movie, we kinda missed the last half-”

“Evan.” His name on Connor’s lips silences him. “Evan, look at me.”

Evan does, timidly and hesitantly. He’s scared of what he might find on Connor’s face. What if... Michael was wrong? What if Connor didn’t actually want anything serious or official? Just because they went on a couple of dates didn’t mean they had to be boyfriends. And he didn’t want to be _that guy_ who pushed or pressed it, or made things awkward and ruined everything.

“Um, seriously, I’m just being stupid!” He hates the way his voice quickens, his voice cracks during the last word. “I mean, yeah, that’s what I meant but- I don’t want to put you on the spot or anything. You should just forget I said-”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

Evan freezes, gaping. “Um,” he manages, “I mean- yeah but, but only if that’s what... what you want? I didn’t want to ask or bring it up because, well, if you didn’t want to be I didn’t want to make things awkward and have you hate me or-”

“I couldn’t hate you,” Connor says, “and yes, I want to be your boyfriend. Of course I do.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So... we’re...”

“Together, yeah. If it’s what you really want.”

Evan never really imagined this is what his first relationship would be. For one, he never really expected it to be with another guy. And then there was all the awkwardness - which, knowing him, should have been expected regardless - and nervousness.

“Yeah, it is. What I want.”

Connor grins and it actually reaches his eyes. It knocks the air out of Evan’s chest.

“Can I kiss you?” Evan’s still trying to process this new development. Connor was his... boyfriend. They were dating, officially. Great. Good. Wonderful. His chest feels as though it might explode but for the first time in a long time, it’s in the good way. “Evan?”

Evan looks up at Connor, a huge grin splitting across his face as he practically throws himself forward, clearing the distance between them and pressing their lips together in a hasty, excited kiss. It almost made him forget how awful the day had been, forget how he had an anxiety attack in front of Connor and his roommates because for at least a few moments, while they were in each other’s arms and a few of Evan’s anxieties laid to rest, everything felt perfect.

* * *

* * *

* * *

“Is it any good?”

“You know I didn’t even graduate high school, right?” Connor mutters under his breath. Even so, he doesn’t look up from the paper that he’s proofreading. Evan hovers next to him nervously. He had never really had anyone besides professors read anything he had written before but this paper was worth forty percent of his finally grade and he definitely needed a second opinion. “Is everything you write about trees?”

“I’m an environmental science major,” Evan says as if this explains everything. Maybe it does. Connor just hums in response and after a minute, hands the paper back to Evan.

“It’s fine, you’ll get a great mark, I promise.”

“If you say so... Thanks for reading through it.” He might have his mom read through it too if she has a moment to spare. Connor just shrugs and leans back in his chair. They’re behind the desk at the front entrance and Evan technically shouldn’t be there but for the first time in weeks, there’s not a single person in the library besides the two of them. Connor’s never really been one for rules anyway. “Hey, I might have to leave a bit early today. I need to go talk to a professor tomorrow and they have the absolute worst office hours.”

Connor mock pouted and clutched his chest, “Oh, my dear Evan Hansen, what will I ever do without you for an hour. I’ll probably perish.” He dodges a playful swat and then schools his face into the most serious expression he can muster. “Fine, you can go if...”

Evan shifts to face Connor, a little grin playing on his lips. “If?”

Connor places his hands on Evan’s hips and tilts his head upwards inquiringly. Evan laughs before choosing to indulge his _boyfriend_ (god, that was nice to think), cupping his face with his palms and leaning down to press their lips together. He certainly does not expect Connor to suddenly pull him closer. Evan very nearly loses his balance but Connor steadies him, never once breaking the kiss. He does change the angle, deepening the kiss until Evan is putty in his hands.

He’s pulled down into Connor’s lap and goes more than willingly.

“Is this alright?” Connor breaks their kiss to ask. His fingers are playing with the hem of Evan’s shirt, his thumbs ghosting across Evan’s skin but refusing to go any farther without approval. Evan doesn't have to think. After the events at Connor's house less than two weeks ago, he knows that Connor will stop if he asks him to, if he's uncomfortable. Right now, Connor is sober and Evan finds himself practically craving the other's touch. 

He nods his consent and then immediately voices it, “Yeah. It is.”

Connor reconnects their lips as his hand disappear up Evan’s shirt. His grip is borderline possessive but just loose enough that if Evan wanted to, he could break away. He doesn’t. He doesn’t want to. Quite frankly, he just finds it all really damn hot.

He returns the kiss earnestly, opening his mouth and releasing a low moan. Connor’s traces circles against Evan’s skin with his thumb and Evan really doesn’t want it to end. But it does, as all things do. They’re left breathing heavily, their lips not touching but so close. Then Evan has the crashing realization that they’re at the front desk, that anyone could walk in anytime and be forced to witness their makeout session. That Connor could get in trouble, or fired, if caught - that someone could be watching - and Evan withdraws to protest as the anxiety settles in. “C-Connor... We, uh, c-could-,”

Any protest he had died on his lips when Connor buried his face in his neck, his stubble scratching Evan’s skin in a way that felt way better than it should, and fucking _bit_ him. He brings a hand up to stifle the moan into his palm and feels Connor smirk against his skin and then he’s sucking on the bitten skin and fuck, that’s going to leave a mark. It’s gonna leave a mark and people are going to see and - for some reason, that didn’t bother him as much as it should.

Maybe it was because he was immediately distracted by Connor’s grip, which has crept up from his hips, leaving a trail of goosebumps until his fingers are splayed across his chest. And then he presses his thumbs against Evan’s nipples the same time he bites - gentler this time - on Evan’s shoulder.

“Holy fuck,” Evan gasps and the hand that had been smothering his noises was suddenly in Connor’s hair, gripping hard. Connor repeats, again and again, and then peppers Evan’s skin with kisses. Evan blushes when Connor withdraws and rakes his eyes across his face. Connor’s tongue snakes out across his kiss-swollen lips, wetting them, and it goes straight to his dick.

“You’re gorgeous,” Connor breaths. No one’s ever really complimented Evan before except his mom, and he never really believed her because it was her _job_ to say those things. But Connor says it with such conviction, Evan can’t help but believe him. He presses their lips together again, in an opened mouth kiss that Connor excitedly returns. It’s almost overwhelming, the way Connor’s lips claim Evan’s so roughly and yet perfectly. Not for the first time, he feels his pants tighten as Connor runs his tongue across his bottom lip, then sucking on it lightly. He shifts in Connor’s lap, intent on just deepening the kiss but the little wiggle causes him to grind down against Connor who, he is pleased to discover, is just as excited as he is.

In a burst of impulsiveness, Evan reaches down and palms Connor though his jeans, who automatically tries to push up against his hand. It was clear he wasn’t expecting it, if the way he breaks their kiss with a gasp is anything to go off of. It wasn’t the kinda move one expects from Evan Hansen. And hell, it certainly wouldn’t be happening if he was thinking-

But he’s not thinking, he’s trying to unbutton Connor’s jeans with one hand. He’s pulling down the zipper and reaching into Connor’s boxers and wrapping his fingers around Connor’s cock. He’s giving his first ever handjob. In a public library.

“Ev, fuck,” Connor grunts as he breaks the kiss and drops his forehead onto Evan’s shoulder. Evan takes his response as permission to proceed and moves his hand slowly at first, and then faster. He’s inexperienced. He knows this, and he’s sure Connor knows this. If he didn’t, he does now because Evan is awkward in his movements. He tries to focus on things he knows to feel good, things he enjoys. On his next downward stroke, he twists his wrist a little and that must have been doing something right because Connor let's out a little gasp and then repeats Evan’s name. Evan copies the action, and again-

And then his hand is pushed away and he makes a noise of protest until he realizes Connor’s undoing _his_ pants.

Connor hesitates. “Is this alright?”

Evan nods in an immediate response. His mind is just the slightest bit fogged with how overwhelming the entire situation is, but he also knows that he’s... really, genuinely okay with this. He’s never been touched by anyone else before, so Connor wrapping his hand around his shaft is - well, really, how different could it be from masturbating?

A _helluva lot different,_ Evan soon learns when Connor brushes the pad of his thumb over the head of his cock, smearing pre-come down his shaft, and Evan can’t help but thrust up into Connor’s hand. Connor gives him a little squeeze and his eyes flutter shut, his mouth falling open. _Completely different._ It probably didn’t help that he had been imagining what this would be like for ages.

“O-oh,” he gasps as Connor sets a teasingly slow pace. He still has one hand wound in Connor’s hair, which is falling out of his messy bun. He tries to reach for Connor once again, only to have his hand swatted away. “Wha-?”

Connor chuckles a little breathlessly and Evan is stuck for a second on just how much he adores the sound, how he’d give anything to hear that sound and then Connor is hooking his free arm around him and pulling him closer. Evan readjusts in Connor’s lap and they’re nose to nose, their lips inches away, heavy breathing mixing between them.

Connor’s hand was one thing but then their cocks are rubbing together and it’s a new, wonderful feeling altogether, and Connor’s hand wraps around both of them. Strokes them. Together. And the friction is _incredible._ Evan doesn't try to mute his whimpers and moans and gasps. He bucks into Connor’s hand, again and again as Connor moves his hand painfully slowly, revelling in the friction.

Moments later he’s spilling into Connor’s hand, Connor’s name on his lips. Connor follows seconds after, kissing Evan to mute any noise that comes with his orgasm.  

“God, Connor,” Evan starts as soon as Connor withdraws. He’s not entirely certain where he was going with that, so he bursts into nervous laughter as the shock of what they had just done sets in. He had just, for the first time, with Connor, here-, “Oh god, Connor, I can’t believe we just did that. Here, I mean, we could have been caught, you could have gotten in so much trouble-.”  
Connor reaches across the desk, grabs some tissue paper and wipes off his hands, and then sets to cleaning up whatever mess they’d made. He’s got a stupid, knowing smirk on his face and Evan thinks it’s ridiculous that he can be so calm about this when he had just jacked them off at in public. At work.

“Well, we didn’t get caught, so it’s all good. What’re you panicking for? You did start it,” Connor says with that goddamn twinkle in his eyes. Evan supposes he’s right. Still, what he had just done- in the library. His first time ever doing anything of the sort, and it was with Connor Murphy, in the library. He feels his breath catch in his throat. What if there were cameras - of shit, there were definitely cameras, and they had just- and he _had_ started it. Initiated it.

“Hey, earth to Evan?” Connor calls.

“Sorry.”

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” he says, and is surprised to realize that, hey, it’s kinda true. He is alright. He just - he just got a handjob from his insanely gorgeous boyfriend (who he just may be falling in love with) in public - which had some kinda rush to it, maybe made it all the more exciting. And they didn’t get caught. Fuck alright, “I’m fantastic.”

Connor laughs. Evan watches him laugh, revels in the sound for a few moments before he joins in. And then kisses Connor, just because he can.

* * *

* * *

* * *

“Connor tells me you two have quite the adventures in the library after dark.” Jason’s wearing some kinda shit eating grin that makes Evan slightly nervous. Evan’s lost track of how many drinks he’s been through, but his teasing hasn’t changed the slightest.

“H-he did?”

“Of course he didn't, but your reaction did. Holy shit, you guys have actually fucked at the library?”

Evan doesn’t quite know how he ended up here. For one, Evan had never been good at handling his alcohol. For another, the place was flooded with people and if that wasn’t asking for a panic attack he didn’t know what was.

It was his fault to some extent. He _had_ mentioned offhand to Connor how he wished he could get out more, experience more things he’d never been able to manage because of his anxiety. Connor had promptly planned a double date with Jason of all people, and his girlfriend. He doesn't entirely know why he agreed. Jason was still chillingly aloof to him. He didn't make any more comments, Connor had probably told him off, but Evan could still feel his glares and what he could only assume to be utter disapproval. It was as though Jason didn't want Connor to be with him, for reasons he couldn't fathom since the two fought so much (and yet were on good enough terms to go on a double date?).

The entire situation was confusing to Evan, but he didn't want to be annoying or weird or nosy, so he never asked.

And honestly, so far, the date wasn't going too badly.

Sure, they were cramped into a little booth in a bar with loud music and far too many people, but Connor held his hand under the table (even though his hand was almost definitely sweaty but if it was Connor didn't seemed to mind) and rubbed circles into the back of his hand with his thumb. It almost made him forget the massive crowds of people and well, what Connor couldn't soothe, Evan’s fourth drink was definitely taking care of. Between Jason’s teasing and the alcohol, he can only imagine how red he is.

“Leave him alone, J.”

And then there's Veronica, Jason’s girlfriend. She has been nothing but wonderful to Evan, patient with him through their stumbled interactions. She’s a pretty girl with dark hair and eyes, a sweet smile and a take-no-shit attitude. She can shut down Jason in mere seconds with a look or a snappy quip and Evan has to admit, he’s impressed.

“He’s so easy though,” Jason complains, sending a wink in Evan’s direction. He is rewarded with a smack to the back of the head.

“I-it's alright,” Evan says, his free hand clutching his drink. He focuses on the condensation dropping down the side of the cup. It was just playful fun, right? It wasn't like Jason was being cruel, not like the times before. He wasn't sure if it was Veronica’s presence that made the change though, or maybe the alcohol. Or maybe he was actually warming up to Evan. Evan doubted that one. It was probably the alcohol.

“See, Evan knows I’m just teasing,” Jason says with a grin. He lifts his glass to his mouth and downs the rest of his beer. Evan jumps when he slams the glass down on the table. Veronica offers him a sympathetic smile. Evan feels kinda bad for her, to be sober whilst the three of them drink.

“So how long have you and Connor been together now?” she asks, smiling at Evan. Jason reaches for the pitcher of beer sitting in the center of the table and without breaking her eye contact with Evan, Veronica pushes it out of his reach, towards Evan. Apparently she decided he’d hit his limit. Evan didn’t even know how much the other man had drank but it was clearly a lot.

“I.. uh?” Evan turns to Connor questioningly. It really depended what she meant by together. They had only actually officially put a title on it recently. But if she was counting the dates where they beat around the subjects and the weeks of make-out sessions prior... “I think, um, t-three months? Maybe... just a little over that...?” He pauses, and then bumbles, “And, um, what about you and J-Jason?”

“Two and a half years, but we’ve known each other... since...” she tells him, drifting off at the end as she glances between Connor and Jason. Evan feels the grip on his hand tighten, the thumb on the back on his hand freezes in place. Connor’s jaw is stiff and he’s glaring at the wall behind Jason’s head. Evan can’t begin to imagine why this would invoke any kind of reaction from him, but it was clearly upsetting. He squeezes back and Connor’s expression softens.

To Evan’s surprise, Jason bares a similar grim expression. He of all people should be happy with her, but instead he’s frowning as he watches Connor.

Connor rises suddenly. Evan releases his hand in surprise, but Connor just turns and extends his hand once more. “We should go dance.”

Evan glances at him and then to the crowded dance floor. His chest goes tight and he shakes his head. “I-I can’t, not right now.”

“Will another drink help?”

Evan looks at the drink he’s currently nursing. It’s still half full, and he’s already well past tipsy. One more drink isn’t going to make throwing himself into a hoard of dancing drunks any more okay. He shakes his head and Connor gives in. Evan distantly realizes that Connor might be trying to drag him away from the growing awkwardness that was building in their booth but the terror of willingly walking onto the dance floor - well, he knew which option he choose.

Jason has less reserves. Evan watches as he hops up way too gracefully for someone who has drank easily three times as much as himself. He takes dramatically pretends to bow before taking Connor’s hand. “I will sacrifice myself in your stead.”

Evan laughs, quietly, awkwardly.

No one else does.

Connor lets Jason drag him off, Evan and Veronica watching them go. Evan can't take his eyes off of them and he's trying to ignore the lowkey jealousy tugging at his heart. It's not that he was upset Connor was dancing with Jason, it was just... Jason could dance with Connor. Without the anxiety and fear of bumping into someone, of looking like a looser, making a fool of himself, or getting called a _faggot_.

He tears his eyes away, back to Veronica who is still watching them fondly. “So.. w-what were you going to say earlier? Knowing Jason since...?”

He got the sudden feeling he had done something terribly wrong when her lips fell into a frown.

“I'm sorry, y-you don't have to answer that, of course, I was just curious-”

“I was going to say I've known him since he and Connor were dating.”

Oh.

_Oh._

“They... dated?”

“Connor didn't tell you?” Veronica’s eyebrows furrow together and she bites her lip, clearly wondering if she should have said anything. “They broke up a few months before I started seeing Jason. Sometimes it’s a bit of a touchy subject.”

Evan’s chest is tight as he turns his eyes back to the dancing pair. It's strange to watch with this new knowledge because suddenly the way they fit together flawlessly makes perfect sense, the grace in which they sense each other's movements as they dance... it's as though Evan was invading on an incredibly intimate glance at their past.

They’re not even spewing insults or glaring at each other. It’s weird, because they’re usually borderline violent with each other and now Evan is left to watch as they seem to fall into a natural rhythm.

“It's hard to watch sometimes,” Veronica finally adds, and Evan supposes she's returned to watching them too. “Not because I think they’re going to run off together. They won't, but because I wonder what went wrong. Jason told me a lot about what happened but I know it wasn't everything.” She sighs and sips at her water. Evan throws back more of his drink too because all of a sudden he really, really needs it. “They’ve just been... through so much together.” Evan can tell she's censoring herself so as to not say too much. “Things I can't even begin to imagine. They understand each other more than anyone else could and it would be awful of me to try and take that away from them. They need each other.”

“Oh.” Evan can't find any words to form an actual response.

“It's nothing to worry about,” Veronica reassures him, reaching out and covering his hand with hers. Evan doesn't withdraw his hand but his fingers curl into a fist.

It's not that he doesn't believe her, or think Connor’s going to run back to Jason... Really, he doesn't. He’s seen how they fight and argue and bicker. No, it’s that he could probably never fit so well with Connor. Connor and Jason seem to flow together so flawlessly, fall together perfectly like pieces of a complex puzzle Evan could never hope to solve. Connor could easily find someone else to fit together with, but Evan is his own type of mess, he could never...

Evan’s stomach flops and it's suddenly all too much for him.

“I'm gonna... I'm going to go step outside, it's a little... much, in here.”

Even jumps to his feet and doesn't wait for a response from Veronica before he books it for the backdoor.

The cool air of early evening rushes over him as the doors close behind him. Being the end of May, the sun still has yet to set and the sky is lit with the most beautiful pinks and golds, fading into the deep blue of the oncoming night. A crescent moon sits in the sky, a shining silver beacon.

He wants to cry and he's doing everything in his power to not. He refuses to go back with puffy eyes - he just needs to breathe and calm down. This doesn't mean Connor’s going to leave him, it doesn't mean Connor doesn't care about him. Hell, knowing that he and Jason used to date changes absolutely nothing.

But telling himself and convincing himself are two entirely different things and every time he closes his eyes he sees Connor and Jason dancing. It doesn't matter that they’re not together. He doesn't even really care about that because everyone has exes, and staying friends is a good thing. It's just... well, Connor didn't tell him. Did he think it was unimportant? Or did he not want to tell Evan for whatever reason. What reason could he possibly have?

The anxiety is settling in. Hard. Evan drops onto the back steps and draws his knees to his chest, trying to focus on his breathing.

The door swings open behind him, music flooding out the doors before they click shut and mute the alleyway once more. Evan doesn't look up as Connor settles beside him, instead choosing to focus on a dirty napkin that blowing around the back alley. It flutters as they sit in silence and blows into a puddle. Evan frowns.

“I don't,” he starts, and he’s embarrassed to hear his voice _crack_. “Never mind, it's stupid.”

Connor takes Evan’s hand, intertwining their fingers together. He doesn't say anything and Evan’s sure that Veronica told him about their conversation. Connor was going to think he was so ridiculous for reacting like this.

Many moments pass with just the distant beat of the music thrumming through the walls, the cars shooting past outside of the alley, and the wind whistling through the alley. Evan gives in.

“You guys... are really close. You guys know each other better than I could ever hope to know you. I don't really... belong. Why would you want someone like me? I'm awkward and anxious all the time and I can't go dancing because there's people and I can't laugh off stupid comments. just... I can't be like him. I can't. Why would you want me when you can find someone like him who- who actually...”

Okay, so he was more than a little jealous. He was insecure. He could just... see how close they were, how much the meant to each other. It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy that Connor had Jason in his life. He deserved to have people he cared about, people who cared about him in return. It was just so hard to watch knowing... he could never have anything close to it. He didn’t have anything to offer, anything worth loving. Connor could have anyone else, so why was he here with him?

Connor drops his hand and Evan wants to cry. His gaze blurs with the tears he frantically blinks back as he becomes incredibly preoccupied with his shoes. Connor was going to think he was stupid and being ridiculous, or maybe he’d see that Evan had a point and wasn’t worth hanging around for. “I, I know, I told you it was stupid, just ignore me.” _Please don't leave me._ “I won't bring it up again.”

“Evan,” Connor says so, so softly and Evan’s chest feels uncomfortably tight. “Evan, look at me.”

Evan doesn't want to look at him. He’d see that he was crying, getting so worked up about such stupid stuff and he’d think Evan was pathetic. But Connor’s hand pushes up his chin and forces him to look at him. He looks a little distant, worried. Shit, it looks like tonight really was turning into a breakup... what a way to end the night. “I, I’m sorry. I get it - you’re going to break up with me, it’s fine, I can handle it. I w-won’t... I might cry, but it’ll be fine.”

“What? Ev, I'm not breaking up with you.” Connor looks genuinely confused. Evan feels his heart leap a little but this one reassurance doesn't change the rest of his mess of emotions. “Evan, no, I’m not leaving you. I want you, I want to be here with you, no one else.”

Evan is silent. He’s still blinking back tears and fears his voice will crack if he tries to speak. He doesn't know what to say anyway - he feels as though anything he says will only mess things up. He always messes things up. He's doesn't want to mess this up.

Connor is patient, waiting for Evan to stabilize and breathe before extending his hand. Evan takes it feeling as though he's the last person to deserve it.

“Dance with me,” Connor asks as he hauls Evan back to his feet. Evan looks apprehensive. “There's no one out here to see. And eight years of dance lessons are not going to waste on Jason fucking Dean.”

Evan chuckles at that, a little bit. It’s kind of choked out. “I'll step on your feet.”

“I've been through worse.”

 _Things I can't even begin to imagine_ , Veronica’s words come to mind. He shakes them out and allows Connor to drag him into the middle of the alley.

“There's no music.”

“Then you can’t laugh at me when I miss the beat.”

Evan resists the urge to roll his eyes at that. As if _Connor_ would be the one to miss the beat.

“Okay, your arm....” Connor guides Evan’s free arm to his upper shoulder and rests his own on Evan’s lower back. And then they’re off, Connor carefully guiding each movement.

Two steps back, pause, a shift to the side, a step forward. Evan stares at his feet, scared of messing up and stepping on Connor’s toes.

It's... surprisingly easy to fall into a rhythm with Connor. He moves slowly, allowing Evan time to process his movements. When Evan stumbles, Connor catches him, his grip steady and reliable and warm. When Evan misses a step and falls backward, Connor catches him in a dip, kisses him shortly, sweetly, and pulls him up.

Evan doesn't look at his feet again. His eyes are locked with Connor’s, his feet moving on autopilot as they gyrate gracefully through the alley. It feels like something out of a Disney movie or a fairytale, except there's no music and they’re dancing in a dirty back alley behind a bar with just the glow of the setting sun for light. And Evan loves every goddamn moment of it.

Connor suddenly sending him spinning out under his outstretched arm. Evan gasps and then bursts into laughter as Connor pulls him back to his chest. The dance picks up, faster and faster as he finds his own pattern, his own rhythm with Connor.

Evan hates to be cliche but he thinks they could dance like this forever, with just the two of them. And part of him wishes he could.

For a while it feels as though it were possible, with each moment stretching on and being etched into his memory. But they do stop, slowly, as though neither of them wanted to relinquish the moment quite yet.

They stop.

They don't part. The world is spinning and there's nothing they can do but stare at each other with big toothy grins and hearts that are attempting to beat out of their chest.

“There’s nowhere else I'd rather be.”

“Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed it! If you'd like you can come talk to me on tumblr (@arimarris), I love chatting with people! 
> 
> I also owe a huge thank you to my beta reader and also idea sounding board... and like, half the genuine honestly, they give me so many ideas and put up with all my bullshit. They're Constant_Variations on AO3, I highly rec them. 
> 
> And also thank you to my friends on tumblr who put up with me too. Seriously, all I've talked about for like a solid month is this fic. Whoops. (@darafeth, Connor-Can-Finish-My-Milk, Time-Plus-Night, all-the-fandoms-bow-to-me, and many more lol)
> 
> I also gotta be real, I was heavily inspired by chchchchcherrybomb's "The Desperate Type". If you haven't read it??? Go read it?? It's so good. And this was inspired by Evan's librarian kink. 
> 
> Translation to the German song: 
> 
> The moon has risen.  
> The golden stars shine  
> in the sky, brightly and clearly.  
> The woods stand black and silent.  
> And magically, from the meadows  
> the white mist is rising.
> 
> How still is the world  
> and, wrapped in dusk,  
> as intimate and lovely  
> as a still chamber  
> where you can sleep  
> while forgetting the day's grief.


End file.
